Change of Power
by Ice-Tea-1983
Summary: Bayville High has a new Exchange Student: Ranma. How much of a difference will his presence make in the Mutant community?
1. Book 1 Chapter 01 Decisions

Posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

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Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

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Change of Power

Book One

Chapter One – Decisions

* * *

It was early morning at the Tendo home.

It was the day after the disastrously failed wedding, and while most of the dojo remained in ruins, life must go on.

Ranma and Akane sat at the breakfast table, with Tendo Soun sitting across from them, smoking an after-breakfast cigarette, while Saotome Genma was playing with a ball and Kasumi was hanging laundry out to dry.

"So we have arranged for the wedding to be delayed," Said Soun after a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling a big puff of smoke. "Until you can sort out your personal affairs …"

"Pay attention!" Akane chastised Ranma. "All this applies mostly to you!"

"It was just as much _your_ fault, Akane," Ranma retorted.

Sighing in frustration, Akane looked at the time, and immediately got up. "We've got to go!" she added for explanation as she pulled Ranma from his seat and started running, her school bag in her other hand.

For the entire school day, Ranma refrained from falling asleep. He was contemplating the events leading to their current situation.

Things would not have been this hard if he had been stronger! If something like Saffron happened again, there was no guarantee that he would be able to win at his current level of skill and strength. And there was no assurances that some miracle would happen again to help him win. There was only one thing he could do to prevent such a thing from taking place again; he would have to train, and in order to train safely he needed to go on a training trip.

There was only one, huge, problem with this answer; there was no possibility of him being able to get much training done if he announced his intentions to everyone, as they would follow him and somehow make his training worse or yield lesser results than he wanted.

He would have to leave _alone_._ N_ow, the question remained; _how would he do that?_

* * *

Nearly a week later, Ranma came up with a plan. It may not have been a very good plan, but at least he had one.

He had gathered all the materials he thought he'd need, gotten all his money out of hiding and was ready to go.

"Pops," he declared one night at dinner. The day had gone well, without much in the way of disturbances. As such most of the members of the Tendo household were in a good mood, with the exception of Akane who had been offended when Ranma refused to eat her bento at school. "I think I need to spend some time with Mom. She seemed a little disappointed when the wedding was … _interrupted_."

At the mention of his wife's disappointment Genma bit back the protest he had been about to utter about Ranma being coddled by spending too much time with his mother, and instead nodded meekly. The others around the table shook their heads at the display while Nabiki edged away to sell the information to Ranma's suitors and rivals. The suitors would not dare fight over Ranma at the rebuilt Saotome home for fear of what Auntie Nodoka might do to them and their claim on her son if they did. But it would be good for the Tendo home's repair bill to have the fighting between the rivals taking place somewhere else.

"I'll be leaving tonight," Ranma added.

Again, Genma looked about to protest.

"I'm sure Mom will _appreciate_ a surprise arrival by her son, wouldn't you agree, pops?" continued Ranma.

Genma's protest ended abruptly, and a reluctant nod was given again.

"Then I guess I'd better get going before it gets too late," Ranma continued. "It would be rude to _wake Mom _when I arrive, right?"

"Oh my, yes," Kasumi agreed. "I'm sure Auntie Nodoka wouldn't appreciate that!"

"What are you waiting for, boy?" a frantic Genma asked, knowing full well that any perceived fault in Ranma's upbringing would reflect badly on him. And having his No-chan angry with him was not something he wanted, as she tended to express her anger with her clumsily wielded sword. Come to think of it _his_ mother tended to wave around a butcher knife at his father when she got angry, and his grandmother always jabbed his grandfather in the leg with a hairpin when she was annoyed with him. Maybe it was a genetic male Saotome trait to seek out excitable women with sharp weapons? "Get going!"

Giving Akane a look, Ranma got only an insulted sniff in return. She was clearly still upset with him about insulting her cooking.

As much as he wanted to tell her about what he had planned he knew that the secret would be out in a matter of minutes of him telling her, so that option was out. He needed more time than a few minutes head-start to successfully get this training trip under way.

Trudging upstairs to get his backpack, Ranma grumbled at the fact that Akane didn't even seem remotely upset at the idea that he'd be gone for a few days. Perhaps she simply hid it well enough. Though, over the last week, she _had_ gotten a little less friendly. Not much, hardly noticeable to an outsider, but still.

On the way, he passed Nabiki, who had only gotten as far as to tell Ukyo of the planned visit, if the check-list next to the phone was anything to go by. That left Kuno and Gosunkugi.

Not wanting his journey to be hindered, Ranma slipped into his room and got his backpack.

As he was about to leave through the window, the door opened, revealing Kasumi.

"You're not going to Auntie Nodoka, are you?" she asked sadly. "Are you _running away_?"

"NO!" Ranma protested. So as not to attract any unwanted attention, he swept Kasumi into the room and closed the door behind her. "I'm going on a training trip, and I don't want anyone to follow me!"

"Why?" asked Kasumi. "Why can't you let the others know?"

"Because they'd follow me!" Ranma hissed, sounding more angry than cautious, and regretted it from the hurt look on the elder girl's face. "I wouldn't get any training done if they followed me, and then it would only become a vacation from the city, bringing all my problems with me!" he continued, trying to soften his voice some.

"Why do you need to get stronger?" Kasumi asked. "If what your father said is true, you killed a _God_ to save Akane's life. What possible reason could you have for needing to get stronger?"

"It was a _fluke_!" Ranma admitted in a growl. "If it hadn't been for the Gekkaja, I would have died long before that battle! If it wasn't for Akane's shrunken, frozen body throwing itself at Saffron when she did, I would never have managed the final attack! I need to get stronger, I can't leave things to chance! I wouldn't be a proper Martial Artist if I did! A Martial Artist is supposed to protect the weak. How will I be able to do that if I get killed by my next opponent? You must have noticed it, right? That my _real_ opponents seem to grow in strength, while I only grow in bursts when one of my friends have learned a new trick that they try on me! What if my next opponent isn't as overconfident as Saffron? I'll lose for sure, and Saotome Ranma _doesn't_ lose! I can't trust my dumb luck to come to the rescue anymore …"

Kasumi was silent for a moment before nodding in understanding.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone," Ranma added hopefully as the young woman turned and reached for the door.

"Don't worry, Ranma-kun," Kasumi assured him with a smile, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. "I know how to keep a secret."

"_What_?"

Turning to the door, Kasumi and Ranma were shocked when Akane slid it open, a look of outrage on her face.

"Ranma!" she yelled. "What are you making my sister keep a secret?"

Though Ranma had to admit, the scene might look compromising; Kasumi alone with him in the guest room promising to keep something a secret, he was still hurt at the implied accusation of him having tried something with Kasumi.

"Nothing, Akane," Ranma yelled back. "She just came to say _goodbye_, unlike _someone else_ I know!"

"Why would I say goodbye to an _insensitive jerk_ like you?" Akane retorted.

"Never mind," Ranma bit back yelling at her that he would be gone for a while. It would just give away more than he wanted to. "Goodbye."

Without another word, Ranma hopped out the window, backpack in place, and gritting his teeth to keep from calling Akane an uncute tomboy for being so angry with him for no good reason.

* * *

An hour later, Ranma was almost out of Tokyo, and reclining in a somewhat comfortable seat on the train headed for Mito.

He had heard rumors of a temple there that practiced minzoku-shinto, and decided to at least check with them if there was any chance of them curing him of his fear of cats. Though he was loath to admit it, felines were his greatest fear and having someone potentially taking advantage of that fear in battle would not be a good thing. It had to go.

And while he waited for the train to get there, he practiced stuff space, the one good technique Mousse had in his arsenal. He had picked up the mechanics of the technique already during their second encounter, but never really had much use for it until now.

The only thing he dared practice with was a blank notebook he planned on using with the list he had made of things he needed to learn or do during this training trip, and so far he had managed to hide it for exactly five seconds before it tumbled out of stuff space.

He needed more work on the technique, Ranma concluded, and started again.

For the remainder of his trip to Mito, Ranma practiced placing things in stuff space. By the time he arrived a few hours later, he was able to keep half his pack in stuff space for a short while. He still needed practice, though.

However, before he could do much else Ranma's stomach announced that it was tired of being ignored. The problem was that very few shops or restaurants were open at three in the morning, and those that were weren't very respectable or reliable.

Salvation came in the form of a vending machine that advertised several fresh salads, yoghurts and onigiri standing next to a vending machine for soda pop. They were both freshly stacked three times a day, according to the label, and it was a small shop in town that performed the service and got the money. An all-around good idea for making money while sleeping, in Ranma's opinion, because some travellers would always be hungry no matter if the train they traveled on had a dining cart or not.

The two thousand yen he needed to sate his hunger were well worth it, though. Those onigiri had been very good.

Walking the streets of Mito, Ranma tried to get directions to the temple. Of course, being as it was the middle of the night there were very few people to ask directions, and some of those that were out were not of the sort of people one wishes to speak to or even encounter.

So Ranma had to settle for finding it himself.

It was about six when Ranma found the temple on a hill on the edge of town, and the slowly rising sun did a good job of warming him up after the light chill of the early spring night.

Standing at the top of the steps leading to the temple, was a Shinto priest in every-day robes, sweeping the steps just outside the torii gate placed at the top.

The priest was an old man with a thinning white goatee reaching as far down as his chest.

As Ranma got closer, the old priest stopped his sweeping and looked up from his work.

"May I help you?" he asked.

Ranma hesitated for a moment.

What if his fear of cats was taken away? How would that feel? What would be different?

And what if they couldn't do anything for him?

Seeing the priest waiting patiently for his answer, Ranma took a deep breath, and plunged into it.

"My father instilled a fear of anything feline in me," he blurted, trying to formulate himself as concisely as possible. "I hoped there would be a possibility of someone here having the ability to remove this fear from me, because trouble keeps finding me, and having such a incapacitating handicap will only end in someone getting hurt, should those who fight me take advantage of my fear."

The priest stared at Ranma for several moments, and Ranma almost thought he had not spoken clearly enough, when the man spoke.

"There is nothing anyone but _you_ can do to overcome your fears," he said. "This is a small temple, I am the only priest here. But if you are dedicated, I may be capable of helping you help yourself. The real question is: are you prepared to face your fears? Because that is what you need to do so if you wish to be rid of this curse."

"I'll do whatever it takes," Ranma agreed firmly. He _had_ to, if he wanted to survive an encounter with lethal intent with someone who knew his weakness enough not to push him over the edge.

"Here," the priest stated with a nod, handing Ranma the broom. "I will take your backpack to the guest quarters while you finish sweeping the steps. And do a good job of it, if you'd be so kind."

Though he was tired, Ranma didn't like the idea of rejecting a favor for someone who would help him. And that it was a priest didn't help settle his resolve against the favor.

Dutifully, Ranma accepted the broom, handed his backpack to the priest and started sweeping.

* * *

By the time darkness once more covered the land Ranma had swept all the steps, the courtyard, raked the rock garden, and scrubbed the floors. Thankfully the water got dirty before it got cold and thus had to be exchanged for clean water, so it didn't get to trigger the curse.

Every four hours he had worked, the old priest had given him food and water. It was meager in taste and aesthetics, but filling and enough to sate Ranma's immediate hunger.

To put it mildly, Ranma was tired. He had been up for two days in a row, and performing continuous tasks throughout that time.

"Are you tired?" asked the old man, causing Ranma to turn to face him.

"A little," Ranma replied, trying to hide his drooping eyes and slouched stance of a moment ago.

"Does that mean you are ready to give up?" asked the old priest. "Because staying here would mean hard work, day in and day out until you have gotten yourself back in order."

"I'll do _anything_ to get rid of my fear!" Ranma stubbornly declared. He wasn't about to turn into his father, who shied away from hard work and shoved what little was forced on him onto someone else.

"Anything? Even serving as the janitor of this temple for the duration of your stay?" prodded the priest.

"Anything!" Ranma repeated.

"Good," the priest affirmed. "Now, follow me, I'll take you to what will be your room while you are here. You look dead on your feet. You have an early morning to start your cleansing, and you need to be refreshed."

"What am I going to clean tomorrow?"

"You misunderstand, young one," the priest corrected. "You will not be cleaning anything tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Your first day was a test," the priest elaborated. "Designed to measure your desperation, your dedication, your will and humility. Had you not been humble enough to do the chores set before you, you would not have been dedicated enough to keep with the cleansing you will come to do with your spirit. Had you not had a strong enough will, your desperation for a cure would surely have taken over, and you would have demanded I help. Someone as impatient as that would never be able to cure themselves of what spiritual problems they have. Now, here is your room. It lacks decoration and modern conveniences such as electricity and computers, but it will be adequate. Sleep, you have a long day ahead of you."

* * *

For the next week, all Ranma did apart from eating and sleeping, was learning meditation. He silently cursed his father for thinking this was unimportant during the ten year training trip. It was _hard_ trying to close out your mind from random thoughts and ideas. It was difficult to see the world without losing focus, and it was an arduous task fighting his desire to leave.

More often than not, Ranma fell asleep, and was awakened by the priest nudging him with his foot, causing him to fall over.

It was on the eighth day of Ranma's stay that the priest, who had yet to reveal his name, took Ranma to a room filled with pigeon holes and stacks of scrolls and books.

"This is where you will spend two hours a day from now until you leave," explained the priest. "Even if I have spent several decades maintaining this temple and helping those in need, I have never gotten far in reading these texts, though they contain records of spiritual maladies, cures, treatments and discoveries that my predecessors have written down going back over a thousand years. I want you to look through them and see if you can find one case that closely resembles your own, and see if the priests had a cure for it. You must still spend an hour practicing your meditation, but the rest of your time is now free to do what you wish."

"What?" asked Ranma, trying to keep an incredulous tone from creeping into his question. "You want me to go through all of this? Half of them look like they will crumble at the slightest touch!"

"That also reminds me," the priest added. "Would you be so kind as to transfer the texts that are about to fall victim to the ravages of time to new scrolls? I would appreciate it greatly if the advice of those who came before me lived on for a while more."

Groaning in resignation, Ranma sat down at the desk in the corner, and opened up a musty old tome.

* * *

There it was; the solution to his biggest problem. The best way to cleanse the mental scarring left by the Neko-Ken, to be rid of his greatest fear.

It had taken another week, fourteen hours of reading and transferring texts to get the information he had been looking for, originating a hundred years before the Neko-Ken was banned when it was more common to find insane Martial Artists or warriors with mental and spiritual trauma.

He had gone through about a fourth of the library in his search, slowed by smudges in the ink and stiff, crumbling paper whose content he had to transfer to new scrolls.

In that week, he had gotten a better grasp of meditation, still not very good, but better than he was to begin with.

He had restarted his practices with the stuff space technique, and could hold his backpack in it for nearly three hours before it came tumbling out.

He had started doing morning runs, like Akane usually did only his version was somewhat more intense, involving running along slim objects and jumping above obstacles.

He had, with some of the wisdom given to him in the texts, managed to get a better grasp around ki. Apparently the way he had been gathering, channeling or harnessing ki had been a self-destructive way. If he continued relying on his confidence to harness his ki he would soon only feel that emotion, and end up getting killed doing something he shouldn't be capable of, or taking on an opponent vastly more powerful than him. The proper way to harness ki, was to use no emotion. Emotions were poison to someone harnessing ki, because as with confidence, the user would rely solely on the emotion of foci. No, the strongest, _pure_ ki, was also the most difficult to harness, because it was difficult to remain calm in a battle situation, but he had started getting the hang of it.

Using ki, Ranma found he could make himself stronger to a certain degree. He found he could lift things he normally could not. He found his speed could be increased, and the length and height of his jumps tripled.

But for some reason, it felt almost like cheating, doing things that way because it wasn't _him_, strictly speaking. It wasn't his _body_ that performed those tasks, he wasn't physically strong enough to do those things himself.

This would have to be rectified.

But that could come after he had gotten past his cure.

Ranma had his suspicions that the old priest had known about the cure all along, because a large part of it was meditation, to get in touch with one's inner self, clear away what didn't belong and start the healing.

This was why he and the priest were sitting in his room, both surrounded by a ring of burning candles, and Ranma surrounded by an additional ring of chalk drawn on the ground, connected to four spirit wards to repel evil spirits.

Though there was no chance of any evil spirit inhabiting Ranma's body, the instructions were very specific about the added precaution, if for nothing more than peace of mind.

Then the meditation started.

At first, Ranma had difficulty properly entering a meditative trance, excitement and expectations running through his mind, distracting him.

But then the world started falling away.

At first, Ranma feared he had fallen asleep again, but then he heard a most fiendish sound. A yowl.

Not many creatures made that sound and those that did were mostly of the feline family.

For some reason, Ranma could not become as terrified as he normally was at the slightest sign of a cat of any sort, instead, he found himself curious.

Where was the sound coming from?

Floating through empty darkness, Ranma looked for the source of the sound.

It felt like an eternity, floating around, judging distance only by the increasing volume of the yowls.

Then it appeared.

Hanging in the middle of space before him, was a huge, black sphere made of small bricks. On first glance, it was as big as a mountain, but that was probably only perspective more than actual size.

The sounds were coming from this sphere.

Circling the sphere, Ranma found no entrance, door, window or opening in the thing. And the inspection took a lot of time, as well.

Curious, Ranma reached out to touch it.

"Don't do that unless you're serious," interrupted a female voice. Causing Ranma to turn around in a start, where he was confronted with a redheaded woman that reminded him of his female form, looking at him with an expression of apathy.

"Who are you?" he demanded, commanding his heart to return to a normal pace. "What are you doing here?"

"A vague description would be to say that I am you," said the woman, matter-of-factually. "But that would be too undefined. A more accurate reply would be that I am the parts of yourself that you deny; theoretical intelligence, empathy and your cursed form.

"As to what I am doing here; this is my home, so to speak. This is where you banish those traits of your mind that you do not want or cannot handle and I only spoke up because if you touch those bricks, fear will return to you. Those "bricks" that make this barrier are made from pure fear, pain and terror, and behind them you will find what you become every time you face a cat from which you cannot escape."

"But I have to," Ranma stated. "If I keep having this weakness, I'm a danger to myself and others! I _must_ face what hides behind these bricks!"

The woman nodded in understanding, and floated back, fading from view, leaving behind some terrifying parting words. "If you let your fear consume you, the shock will either kill you or drive you permanently insane. Take care."

Shaking off the shivers that went down his spine at the woman's warning, Ranma dug his finger into a brick, intent on crushing it to make the removal of the others easier.

What he got, was a shock of fear and pain so powerful that he suddenly found himself curled into a ball, shivering. He couldn't even remember anything but pain or fear until he found he had moved on his own. The woman hadn't been joking when she told him about this thing.

As the feelings ebbed away, Ranma returned to his upright position, and faced the brick sphere.

Maybe if he used the Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken, he would move fast enough not to be hit with as much fear, and the bricks would be gone quicker. Like ripping off a band aid quickly to lessen the duration and amount of pain removing it would cause.

"Kachu Tenshin Amargh!"

Scratch _that_ idea.

After what felt like an eternity of terror and pain, Ranma managed to get back to his senses.

He had managed to get out five more bricks before the fear had registered, but the trade-off wasn't as good as he had thought. He personally thought the fear and pain was ten times worse than when he had broken only _one_.

What was disheartening was that underneath the bricks he had removed, was another layer of bricks.

Sucking up every ounce of courage he had, Ranma started the long and terrifying process of pealing the layer of bricks off. Maybe there was an opening somewhere under the first layer.

En eternity later, and hundreds of glimpses of his time in the dark, cat-filled pit, Ranma was finished with the first layer of bricks.

There was no opening in this layer, either.

And the sphere hardly looked any smaller.

The bricks Ranma had gotten loose or destroyed disappeared somewhere in the darkness, leaving Ranma alone with only the yowling sphere.

Gritting his teeth, Ranma continued his work.

Brick after brick, layer after layer, Ranma tore through the terrible feelings.

After the fifth layer, when the sphere looked a little smaller, the fear became less incapacitating.

After the twentieth, the fear and pain was manageable, and the process picked up speed.

When he reached the fiftieth layer, Ranma hardly flinched as entire scenes from the pit played through his mind.

After the hundredth layer, Ranma hardly noticed anything as he ripped away the layer, ten bricks at a time.

Finally, nearly four hundred layers in Ranma found that there was a smooth, hard surface under the current layer. It couldn't be larger than a basketball, but so dark it didn't reflect light off the illumination that came from nowhere.

With the last layer finally gone, Ranma picked up the small sphere, and spun it around in search of anything to dig his fingers into.

Unexpectedly, the sphere gave in to his hands, leaving them pressed into it enough for his entire hand print to be left behind, if he had been able to remove his hands.

With a final yowl, lightning coursed through him, and the sphere _melted_ along his hands. It then spread up his arms, down his torso and legs, before continuing up his neck and covering his head.

He didn't even have the power to scream as he felt himself suffocate under the darkness.

* * *

When Ranma again opened his eyes, he found that he was looking at the ceiling of the temple guest room.

"Huh?" Ranma was very confused. Hadn't he died when that black stuff suffocated him?

"Ah, you've awoken."

Looking to the side, Ranma saw the old priest entering the room, a tray of assorted foods in his hands.

"You look perplexed," the priest continued and sat the tray down on a miniature table over the bed. "Perhaps some food will help clear up your confusion."

Before he even realized what he was doing, Ranma had devoured nearly half the food on the tray. He must really have been hungry to act like that.

"How long has it been?" Ranma asked, swallowing a mouthful of rice. It may normally taste very bland, but at the moment, it tasted heavenly. "It felt like years and years passed in there …"

"Are you referring to how long since you started convulsing in pain, or how long it has been since you went from meditating to being unconscious?" asked the priest.

"Both, if you wouldn't mind …"

"Very well," nodded the priest. "Almost three seconds after you entered your trance, the convulsions started. They weren't enough to make you fall, but enough to be known as convulsions. The spasms lasted for two minutes before you let out a gasp and knocked yourself unconscious against the floor when you fell. It has been three days since then. Luckily the fire didn't do you much harm."

"What fire?"

"You were surrounded by candles, boy," the priest chuckled. "Did you think that crashing against the floor would not upset one of them? I was fortunate enough to salvage this from the fire, though."

Holding out his hand, Ranma saw the priest hold what looked like a thin string, or a whisker.

It took a moment for Ranma to realize that this was /his/ dragon whisker! The very same that held his pigtail in place!

Reflexively, Ranma's hand went to the base of his neck, where usually a familiar weight rested, finding only skin and stubble in its place.

His pigtail was gone!

"If it helps," the priest added. "I had a barber come in and clean up the mess made of your hair. I believe most people will find you more presentable with your current hairstyle."

"_What?_"

The priest reached within his robes and produced a hand held mirror, which he held up before Ranma.

While he still had hair, it was not the same as before.

The pigtail was gone, as was most of his bangs. The sides were very short, as was the back, while the top had a little more, and his bangs now just brushed against his forehead.

"As I said," the priest continued. "Presentable. But on to more important matters than vanity. When you lost consciousness there was something at the tip of your fingers; white, inch-long _claws._ Am I to assume you were successful in your venture?"

"Claws?"

Raising his hands, Ranma saw nothing of such implements on them.

"Indeed," the priest said. "They were made of energy and shaped like tigers' claws."

"Ki claws?" Ranma asked, and continued staring curiously at his fingers.

"Indeed not," protested the priest. "I do not believe they were made of ki. If I had to say what source it was I would say the claws were made from _chi_."

"Chi?" asked Ranma, curiously. "What's that?"

"To put it simply," started the priest. "Ki is the energy produced by living creatures. You use it regularly to boost your physical abilities when you do your training, from what I've seen."

"I can also use it for attacks and other things," Ranma added.

"Really? That would explain your radiance of power. It is really astounding that someone as young as you has managed to attain such a level of control over ki. I am nearly eighty and can only perform minor tricks such as infusing demon wards with energy to activate them, and exorcise evil spirits from living creatures and objects, and perhaps even gleam a little of the spiritual world through the Sacred Flames if I'm lucky. But on with my explanation. Chi, is the energy found in trees, rocks, air, water, the sun, the moon, the stars. In short; it is elemental energy."

"Then how did I get claws made from _that_ at the tips of my fingers?"

"It is possible," the priest continued. "To channel chi into doing things. It is a great deal more difficult than summoning ki, which itself is very difficult for those who are only just beginning, but it can be done. I have never done this myself nor do I know anyone who has, but it is recorded in some of the scrolls in the _private_ library of this temple about cases where great warrior monks managed to do things such as walking on water, scaling any surface without tools, even deflect sharp swords with their forearms without injury.

"There was even record of one monk who could replace lost body energy continuously through meditation. It is said that he sat on the same rock, day and night, wind, rain and snow for weeks without eating, sleeping or relieving himself. Unfortunately, a Warlord heard of this monk, and when he wouldn't teach anyone how it was done, the Warlord had him killed in a fit of rage."

"But, how did _I_ get chi claws?" asked Ranma. "I didn't even know what the word meant. And everyone who saw me in my catlike state said that I used Ki Claws to fight with, not Chi!"

"My dear boy, the feral state _you_ have gone into until now has only been the infant state of the Neko Ken," the priest explained. "Now that you have faced your fear it has grown, and with it you have gotten access to a more mature weapon; namely chi claws."

"For someone who didn't know how to help me, you sure seem to know an awful lot about the Neko Ken," Ranma observed suspiciously.

"I have studied the subject closely for sixty years," the priest admitted reluctantly.

"Why didn't you tell me instead of making me look for it myself?" Ranma demanded. All that time wasted could have been spent training, or getting rid of the fear!

"Because, there is nothing more rewarding than achieving such things on your own," the priest stated. "And I know well how desperate some people can get when something is important to them. Had I let on that I knew how you could be freed from your fear, you would not have gone through proper preparations, and demanded that I reveal the secret to you. And the knowledge and training you received here will not do anything to slow you down in the future."

"But, still …"

"What is done, is done," the priest recited. "We can't change the past, and you are better off for having done all I asked of you, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," sighed Ranma.

"Good," nodded the priest, and got up. "Now, finish your meal and get some more rest. In the morning I suspect you would want to fully explore what changes have been made. You should spend a few days getting accustomed before you continue with your life."

"Okay," Ranma agreed. "But …"

"Yes?"

"Why did you study the Neko Ken so much?" asked Ranma. "To my knowledge, the technique has been banned for about fifty years."

The priest sighed and looked into space for a moment. "My younger brother trained to become a Martial Artist," he finally confessed. "His Sensei was not doing a very good job and he only had the one student at his school. Desperate, the man decided to have one skill in his school that others did not, in order to attract more students. He chose the Neko Ken, simply because the number of Masters of that technique was incredibly low. It killed nearly ninety percent of those that attempted to learn it, and drove nine percent permanently insane. Of the remaining percent, not even a third ever practiced the Art again and shunned all things feline, and the rest either decided that they were Elite Masters simply for surviving the technique and not losing their minds, and took on opponents vastly stronger than them, or were frightened into submission by brief exposures to cats, only to be killed.

"My brother's Master truly thought his student could be one of the extremely few to conquer the pit, the insanity and fear. He was wrong and was killed for it by my feral brother, who killed himself once he came out of his feral state and found what he had done. I became a priest, and studied every aspect of the Neko Ken since then. You are the first actual person I have gotten the chance to help overcome their fears, and I only hope my brother will forgive me for not being able to save him."

Left alone, Ranma went to sleep, half the tray untouched. The story was an eye-opener, and having seen himself doing what the child had done if his father had not been resilient enough to survive the panicked mauling he was told he had given him as he fled the pit.

He wasn't going to dwell on it too long, but he had lost his appetite.

* * *

The next day, Ranma found he had no more stamina than before he delved into his own mind. He wasn't any faster or stronger. He was, however, a little more flexible and could nearly _feel_ some of his surroundings. His senses were slightly more sensitive, and when he had run into a cat out on the prowl for small rodents in an alley it hadn't frighten him at all.

The feeling of knowing he used to be terrified at the mere mention of the creatures, but no longer was, was almost as strange as a gender-changing curse. But it was _mostly_ a relief.

After breakfast, Ranma had meditated, and managed to make the claws grow from his fingers again.

A few test swipes told him that the claws were far more effective than those people had told him about. These were _lethal_ if they hit someone like the others did.

He had managed to reduce an entire tree to splinters with two swipes, and gouged deep trenches in the dirt for over a hundred meters from where Ranma had stood. He had apologized profusely to the priest for destroying the only tree and doing damage to the temple grounds, but was told only to plant another tree in the old one's place, clean up the splinters, and fill in the trenches, something Ranma gladly did.

He also discovered that this new ability was very tiring. He could barely hold the claws for more than a minute before he felt tired and the claws faded from existence.

However, the lack of energy hold the claws for longer wasn't what bothered Ranma, he could just keep training hard, and his reserves would naturally increase. What bothered him what that claws wouldn't have a long reach. Granted, when he focused on it the claws would cut through anything within a hundred meters without lengthening, but Ranma didn't like having some weapon that was purely offensive in nature.

If he _had_ to have a weapon, he would have preferred something with a longer reach and with possibilities of blocking attacks.

Sighing, Ranma felt strong enough to start up the claws again, and as such started meditating again to bring them forth.

During this process, Ranma couldn't help but fleetingly wish that he had a katana instead of claws, but dismissed it.

Imagine his surprise when instead of the tingling, warm feeling at the tips of his fingers, Ranma felt it across his palms.

Looking down, Ranma saw a pure white katana, appearing to be almost a 3D computer model with a soft glow and without any colors or reflection. It was almost an exact copy of the Saotome Honor Blade that his mother carried around, complete with sheath.

Carefully, Ranma gripped the hilt, and gave a little tug.

-Click!-

The sword was free from the sheath, and the blade looked deadly sharp, and held an unbreakable strength.

This was so unreal.

Pulling the sword out fully, Ranma ran a finger along the blade, and found that even without any pressure applied with the finger, a clean cut still came of it.

Sucking on the finger, Ranma swung the blade around, testing its weight, which was surprisingly similar to a proper sword.

"I wonder …" he mused aloud and returned the sword to its scabbard.

Starting his meditation again, Ranma tried focusing on a bo staff instead of a katana.

The weight in his hands slowly shifted, and when Ranma looked, there rested a six foot long bo staff on his outstretched hands.

This weapon also had the look of a detailed white computer model without color or sheen.

For the next hour, Ranma tried his hand at creating every single weapon he knew of, making sure to take a breather between each, and then started up again.

After that hour, Ranma was very tired, but also very excited. It appeared he could create any melee weapon he could imagine that did not require any complex machinery, such as crossbows, bombs and guns.

Applause brought Ranma out of his euphoric daze.

"Very well done, young Ranma," the priest complimented. "Very well indeed. Even the journals of the Neko Ken Masters didn't mention this ability, and these were their _private_ journals that detailed such intimate things as indigestion or moments of personal embarrassment."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ranma didn't really know how to react. He was used to receiving praise, but for some reason, he couldn't start bragging. This skill was not entirely his own doing, even if he had suffered and worked for it. He only got this because a stupid technique that statistically speaking should have killed him. And it was this technique that had indirectly killed the brother of the priest offering him praise, which made pride even harder to display.

"If you plan on continuing with the use of those weapons, I recommend that you take up some more training on them," the priest continued. "You didn't seem very proficient in their use."

"I only learned enough to know how to best defend against them," Ranma confessed. "It's been _sufficient_ so far."

The priest nodded. Ranma had, during the first week, told him of his life, incredible as some things may have sounded, and could tell that Ranma hadn't had a use for knowing how to handle a weapon before.

"In a few days, I assume you will return home," the priest stated casually, looking into the setting sun.

"Nah, I still haven't gotten much stronger," Ranma objected. "Though this has helped a great deal, I still need some time to train. Try out a few techniques I've seen used but never had the chance to practice, and try to put together some I've thought up based on various sources."

"In that case, maybe you would like to visit a friend of mine," the priest suggested. "He is a Master of a form of Martial Arts, and supplies me with all the wards, seals and charms I need when he comes by. He usually wanders around the woods and mountains outside Nagano. A good tip for getting him to teach you something would be to bribe him with food."

"What style does he use?" asked Ranma, interested. Learning new techniques always appealed to his interest.

"Martial Arts Calligraphy, I think it was," the priest replied, scratching his long beard in thought. "Yes, that was it."

"Eh? Why would I want to learn how to write?"

"Boy, after what you told of your numerous encounters with demons, possessed and ghosts, chances are that you'll do so again at some time," the priest appealed. "What better way to be prepared than to know how to make the seals, wards and such to defeat them and keep them from bothering people?"

Ranma couldn't fault the man's logic. It always was a problem when he came up against demons and ghosts, as they couldn't be defeated by normal means, which meant he had to have help, and that was something he didn't like.

"Okay," he finally admitted. "I'll see if I can find him during my trip, and bring some extra food for him."

"Excellent," the priest agreed. "I'll write a letter of recommendation so he'll know who sent you."

"Er, this isn't some _revenge_ thing, is it?"

"Not at all, the two of us get along very well, and I am not as petty as to send someone to him if they bother me."

* * *

Author's Notes: Coming up with a beginning was incredibly difficult, because I needed to get a measure of how strong Ranma was at that time, to keep flamers from having a reason to send me some heat about how exaggerated I'm making his strength.

I have never visited a Shinto temple in my life, which can be easily explained by my living nowhere near any known ones (Then again, there _could_ be some somewhere in Norway that I simply haven't heard of) and as such, I have no idea how they truly look, feel and operate. In that capacity, I have simply put together what I've seen in movies, anime and manga in an effort to make something close to believable. The location of the temple is also fictional, though there may very well be one in Mito.

The Shinto priest is not modeled after any specific anime/manga priests.

Minzoku-Shinto, as I understand it, is a part of Shinto that practices such things as divination, spirit-cleansing and so on.

The Inside of Ranma's head is just something I cooked up on the spot; it is not consciously taken from somewhere.

Referring to Ranma's claws as implements was actually a rather difficult choice, as claws are usually a natural part of the body of a predator, and as such not a real implement. But in this case the claws are not a part of the body, they are removable. I chose to go with the term implement, and hope not too many will flame me about _this_ issue.

Credits: I'd like to thank ClanCrusher and HeeHaw for more or less forcing me to write a Prologue to the story. It is also on their advice that I have split this prologue into several chapters, and split the story into books, the prologue being the first book, the original beginning being the second book, and so on. The melting sphere spreading along Ranma was more or less inspired by the Matrix, when Neo touched that mirror after swallowing the pill.

Edit: I have changed the 'language' from UK English to American English, which should soothe a few ruffled feathers from those who continually spot 'spelling errors' in the text. Furthermore, I have edited out a _**lot**_ of ellipses. It seems I was very fond of using them at the time I originally wrote this story. I would have simply continued writing, but as I sat down after a couple of years to continue I was appalled at how it looked and didn't want to leave the rest of the story a mess, so I went back to clean up.


	2. Book 1 Chapter 02 Learning to Write

Posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book One

Chapter Two – Learning to Write

* * *

For the next few days, Ranma remained at the temple, and got accustomed to his Neko Ken Mastery. By the time he left, Ranma didn't require being in meditation to form a weapon, but it still required time to pull it together, and he could only hold it for a minute and a half before it dissolved.

But Ranma was satisfied with the large increase of chi control over only a few days.

And his stuff space could now hold the backpack for half a day before ejecting it.

This could mean one of two things; one, he was expanding his reserves, or two, his control was improving so he let a little less energy go to waste.

Personally, Ranma hoped it was a little of both, because it would come in handy to have larger reserves and control.

After an awkward goodbye with the priest, Ranma was off, wandering on foot because taking a train would take him too close to Tokyo for his tastes, and that was probably where everyone were searching for him.

No, the fastest route from point A to point B is, and always will be a straight line. But as he had to follow the varying terrain he would have to get it as close as he could.

It was already the fifth day after he had awoken from his comatose state, and he had made camp for the night.

At the edge of his camp stood two boulders he had found while gathering firewood, and he had plans for them.

* * *

-CRASH!-

"Ow. Still not good enough. Again!"

-Whirr!-

-Whirr!-

-CRASH!-

"Ow. Closer."

Had someone heard this, they would have started to wonder what on Earth was going on.

The explanation was simple; Ranma was slamming a boulder into himself repeatedly through a semi-complex setup of ropes and improvised pulleys, while he himself was suspended from another rope with the rope controlling the pendulum swing of the boulder by being pulled and released.

The reason for this self-torture was also very simple; Ranma was teaching himself the Breaking Point technique. Or rather, he had already learned the mechanics of it from having seen it repeatedly, and was building up the resistance that usually came with the technique. Had he tried to perform the technique without that endurance to blunt damage, he would likely have been seriously injured by the shrapnel caused by the blast.

-CRASH!-

"Ow …"

Normal people might think such punishment to be inhumane, that no living person could survive going through such a venture, that it was simply insane to even _think_ about doing anything like it.

They would be wrong.

-CRASH!-

"Ow …"

To Martial Artists such as Ranma, this kind of punishment may be painful at first, but after a few days it becomes less so as an endurance develops until such a point where they can have a boulder crash into them without even noticing it.

-CRASH!-

"Ow …"

Ranma still had some enduring left before nearing that point.

"Okay, enough for today," Ranma sighed. "I still have to carry the other boulder around tomorrow, and I can't do that if I'm trying to recover from bruises."

Untangling himself from the mess of ropes he was tied up in proved no problem for Ranma, as he had plenty of practice growing up with Genma, and having been on all the adventures he had been on. Getting out of ropes was almost a necessity.

With his endurance training done for the day, Ranma set about starting the camp fire.

To add some more training to his day, Ranma emptied a bag of chestnuts into it once it got going.

A kettle filled with water was then placed over the fire, and a bowl of instant noodles were prepared while the water was heating.

After a few moments, the smell and popping rising from the fire told him the nuts were done, and the additional training began.

"Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken!"

The call of the technique wasn't as loud as it had been when he first learned it, but the speed hadn't suffered from that fact. In fact, Ranma was certain he could go faster than the last time he had used the technique. It seemed his training had been paying off in more areas than anticipated.

Just as Ranma finished his training and snack, the kettle started to whistle, signaling that it was ready for use.

A brief shudder ran through him as he remembered the meal Akane had tried to make for him when Ryoga had learned the Bakusai Tenketsu and Genma had tried to teach him a counter to the technique. This trip would have been very unpleasant if Akane had come with him. And had his father come, there would have been no possible way for him to Master the Neko Ken. The old man would have dragged him away the moment the priest had started making him meditate, and would have yelled at him for thinking such a stupid idea was going to make him stronger.

No, even though he missed them, this trip would be better off without anyone following him.

* * *

A week later, Ranma was getting nearer his destination.

It had been slow going at first, lugging a heavy boulder around on his back. But after a little while moving became easier, but not by much. In the evening, Ranma would search for another boulder, and if one could not be found, a large tree was cut down, stripped of branches and suspended by a rope, and used for the endurance training instead.

Luckily, there seemed to be plenty of boulders, so the tree alternative had only been a one-time thing.

Ranma had at the end of that week, replaced the boulder with a larger one he had found, and used the previous one to smash against himself.

For dietary variation, Ranma had done some hunting just after setting up camp. Using a bow and arrow of chi to hunt might be practical and good training both in control and accuracy, but the arrows had a habit of continuing their trek for several meters even after impact.

While this was not a problem in itself, it was a scary thought that if there had been a human behind his target without him knowing, that human would have been skewered without having a chance to get out of the way or blocking it.

As he came back to his camp, Ranma saw a shadowy shape rooting through the tent.

Carefully discarding the rabbits he had gotten for his supper, he snuck carefully into camp. This was another thing the Mastery of the Neko Ken had given him; higher stealth capabilities.

Unfortunately, Ranma wasn't careful enough and stepped on a twig, which made enough sound for the shadow to hear.

With a roar, the shadow slashed its thick weapon at him, and Ranma stepped back, only to discover that the staff had something on the end that brushed against his chest.

For some reason, Ranma found himself unable to move just after the sensation of the weapon sweeping across his chest registered.

"Tsk … how rude of you, barging into someone's camp like that," the shadow lectured.

"This… is … _my_ … camp!" Ranma managed to ground out with a lot of effort.

"Impressive, boy," the shadow complimented. "You must either be very stubborn or well trained to manage resisting the complete effects of the Paralysis Seal."

"Martial … Artist," Ranma grunted. This technique was very strong. He could hardly do anything, and even talking was exhausting to do.

"Is that so?" asked the shadowed person. Stepping out of it was a very old man with a long, white, wild beard, and hardly any hair on his head. His weapon was a giant brush, and by the looks of him he had not taken a proper bath in months. "So you would be on a training trip, then?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then, I'll release you, if you give me a meal, deal?"

"Deal," Ranma grounded both out of frustration and strain.

With another swipe of his brush, Ranma fell to the ground, his entire body aching more than it was after his first day of the Bakusai Tenketsu training.

As Ranma rubbed the pain away, the old man sat down next to the unlit fire and crossed his arms expectantly, his weapon of choice resting across his lap.

"Well, how long do you plan on making your guest wait for his meal?" the man demanded imperiously.

Ranma grumbled about the unfairness of it all as he lit the fire, and trudged back to pick up his rabbits.

It was thirty minutes later, and an unending stream of impatient complaints from the old man, that Ranma finished a stew from various vegetables, herbs and rabbit … he had not gotten potatoes, but he wasn't much of an enthusiast where the roots were concerned. He used rice as a substitute for potatoes.

After the meal was finished, Ranma looked expectantly at the old man.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to introduce yourself?"

"I am the Master of the Kimen School of Martial Arts Calligraphy," the man announced with pride.

Ranma groaned. This was just his luck.

This man was the one he was sent to find!

Confusing the old man, Ranma got up from his seat on the ground, and started rummaging through his backpack until he found the letter the priest had written.

"Here," he grunted and dropped the letter in the old man's lap.

The old coot picked the letter up, curiously, and after checking for traps started reading.

Throughout the letter, the man's expression varied greatly, but mostly towards mirth.

"So, it appears old Yama-kun thought I could use a student," he finally chuckled.

"Not really my idea," Ranma grumbled. "But with the challenges I've faced, he thought it would be wise to have the skills of your school in my arsenal."

"Yes, the letter said as much," agreed the old coot. "But why should I, the respected Master of the school of Martial Arts Calligraphy, take on a student I do not know?"

Ranma upended his backpack, and found a box containing a score of instant noodle packets of a well known brand.

"Because if you teach me, you get these …"

"Food," the man moaned. "My greatest weakness … I can't resist … You've got yourself a deal!" snatching the box from Ranma's hands, the coot added. "No take-backs!"

Had Ranma known what he was getting himself into, he wouldn't have been smirking in triumph as he watched the man slink into a shadow and caress the box while whispering "My precious …"

* * *

Sitting in the middle of a clearing was Ranma.

It was the second day of his training under the old coot, as Ranma had taken to calling him under his breath. The coot insisted on being called Master or Sensei, as he was his instructor.

On the ground before Ranma, was a flat board with a sheet of paper on it. Next to that, was a writing set, complete with ink stone, ink stick and brush. The brush was in his hand, and the ink stone held the mixed ink that had been ground from the stick. It was a tool the old coot had made him run to town to buy, along with a vast amount of paper and scrolls.

A little beyond the paper Ranma was about to write on, was an open scroll, showing several characters.

Carefully inking his brush, Ranma started copying the symbol.

-Whack!-

"Again!" demanded the coot. "And don't make them so squiggly!"

Rubbing the back of his head where the giant brush had struck him, Ranma tossed the paper into the fire, as he had been instructed, and started again.

This had been going on all through the day since breakfast, which had come after Ranma's morning exercise. It had been his tenth try at copying the same character, and he had hardly been allowed to finish a single one before he was reprimanded.

-Whack!-

"Again! Faster!"

Grumbling about annoying old coots, Ranma started over.

On his twentieth try the old man was satisfied.

-Whack!-

"Now repeat it until noon!" grinned the grizzly old man. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to draw every character in that scroll blindfolded, behind your back, and in correct order for your use!"

Still grumbling about how he hadn't thought he would have to train his writing skills, Ranma continued drawing the character repeatedly until noon.

-Whack!-

"Ten minutes break for food!"

After a brief lunch, Ranma was to read about the symbol he had been drawing, and answer random questions about it when done.

"When I agreed to learn this," Ranma finally snapped after being whacked on the head for the thirtieth time that day. "I thought it was going to learn how to make demon seals and such! Not getting hit over the head or improve my writing skills!"

-Whack!-

"Before you run, you must learn to walk!" the coot quoted sternly. "Before you take a dive into a pool, you have to learn how to swim! You do not just jump into the complex without having a thorough understanding of the basics, or you'll get yourself killed!"

* * *

This was how the next two weeks went.

Ranma would get up early in the morning to practice his known skills, such as the Stuff Space technique, the Chi Weapons, the Soul of Ice, Meditation, the Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken, the Iron Cloth technique, his father's Sealed techniques and his kata, then he would perform vertical push-ups with a boulder balanced on his feet for strength and balance, and if he had time smash himself once or twice with a boulder.

After breakfast, he would learn _two_ or _three_ new symbols, if not more. Apparently the old coot had gone easy on him the first few days. And after lunch he would be questioned about all the symbols he had learned, and sat down to read more theory about those symbols.

When dinner was done, Ranma had until bedtime to figure out new techniques based on his thoughts and written ideas.

He had already worked out how to do the "Tree-climbing" and "Water-walking" he had seen in Naruto, after all he had seen the lesser version of the last performed by Cologne, and had practiced a low-level version of the first himself. It was only a matter of improving them, such as spreading his weight over a larger area with ki, instead of finding purchase on an object floating in the water. And using his ki to adhere onto the chi of the surface he was trying to cling to.

Granted, two days had been spent trying to figure out how to do either, and he had to explain about the curse to the old coot, but it was worth it even with the perverted jokes and lewd suggestions he threw at him. The old coot hadn't made a pass at Ranma in female form, but rather hinted at the secrets he could learn if he dared explore the female anatomy further than he already had.

Ranma had suggested the man check himself into a brothel if he was so desperate for women, a suggestion that was rewarded with another whack over the head.

-Whack!-

"Concentrate!" yelled the man. "If you make even one mistake, all of your work will have been for nothing!"

Ranma grumbled as he paused and checked the paper he was drawing the designs on for imperfections, yet finding none. He voiced his opinion to his Sensei.

"You can't see it?" asked the old coot pointing to the middle of the paper with a gnarled hand. "_Those_ two are too close together, and that makes them spaced too far from the border design! This seal is useless! Hardly worth the heat produced as it burns in the fire! If you paid a little more attention, and a spent less time daydreaming, you'd have saved yourself half an hour's work!"

Tossing the paper into the fire, Ranma started once again.

The seal he was trying to assemble, was the basic demon seal that once applied, would force a demon to leave this plane of existence, be it from a possessed body, object or a free-roaming demon. It also worked on ghosts and evil spirits, and used their own energy to do so, which was what made the seal so useful.

"I'll have you know everything I teach you so well, you'll be able to do them in your sleep!" added the coot in a maniacal cackle.

Ranma groaned, which caused him to _nearly_ make a squiggle on the paper instead of a circle.

-Whack!-

"Again!" the man snapped. "And since you seem to strive for perfection, I want you to add a Good Luck charm to your work for the day!"

"Why do I have the feeling you're using me as labor to make the stuff you give to the old priest?" Ranma grumbled.

-Whack!-

"Less sass, more work!"

After three more ruined attempts Ranma had the finished product and was complimented for his work, in a manner of speaking.

-Whack!-

"Took you long enough! A blind monkey with no fingers could have done it faster!"

Ranma rubbed his head and glared at the old man.

"What are you waiting for? A _treat_? Get back to work!"

As Ranma went back to work, he noticed a satisfied grin on the man's face, not unlike the grins on Genma's face when Ranma had shown promise in learning a new style of Martial Arts. It was the grin of a teacher that was pleasantly surprised at their student's progress.

Though he himself was pleased at knowing he was doing well, he didn't comment on it. He didn't want to get "disciplined" with the brush more than necessary.

Taking extra care to steady his hand and measure proper distances, Ranma went to work on the second seal on his list for the day, namely one that would, if properly made, draw on chi from the surroundings and fortify whatever it was attached to, to nearly indestructible levels. Even Ranma could see the benefits of having such an advantage for moments of vulnerability, though it did raise the question of why the old coot hadn't sold these to banks, the military and lived like a king on the money he would undoubtedly earn from them.

-Whack!-

"Remember to channel some ki into the ink while drawing!" the man reminded him. "Or else you've only got a fancy note to stick onto the wall!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Ranma exclaimed.

-Whack!-

"Show some respect," Ranma's Sensei barked. "It's very simple, even a baby could do it! You just focus your ki through the brush and into the ink as you draw. The ki will settle once the designs are done, and this will make the seal do what it's supposed to do. We covered this during the theory lessons!"

"Oh, I didn't remember that …"

-Whack!-

"Ow!"

"That's only a _taste_ of how painful an incorrectly drawn seal can be! So pay attention, or you'll get hurt!"

"Yes, Sensei," Ranma grumbled.

-Whack-

"Less lip, more work!"

* * *

Training under the Master of the school of Martial Arts Calligraphy was no easy task, even after Ranma's newly acquired patience from his meditation practice, but the results started to show into the third week of training, when those whacks hardly hurt Ranma.

"Good," commented the coot as he examined the Storage Scroll Ranma had just finished after ten tries. "This one could actually hold up to a hundred kilos of items without bursting or weighing more than the scroll itself. Much better than your previous attempt …" gesturing to the torn remains of paper on the ground around a boulder, the old coot frowned. "Didn't I tell you to destroy all failed attempts?"

"Sorry, Sensei," Ranma grunted and quickly picked up all scraps, which soon burnt beyond recognition in the fire pit that had not died down a single time since it was lit that night three weeks earlier when Ranma first met his current Sensei. All the paper and parchment thrown into it kept it going longer when wood was added. Apparently, the ink served to prolong the flames after it was applied to paper.

-Whack!-

"Continue with your list!"

"But that scroll was the last one on my list!" Ranma protested, rubbing his head more out of habit than pain. The Bakusai Tenketsu training must have started taking effect if he couldn't feel pain from that kind of hit.

"It was?" puzzled, the coot snatched the list from the ground where Ranma had left it, and studied it for a moment. "You've done all of these already?" he asked to be certain. "_All of them_?"

"Yea, what's your point?" asked Ranma sourly. He didn't like it when people questioned his honesty. "You already out of things to show me today?"

"Actually," corrected the coot. "I am almost out of things to _teach_ you. I only have a few things left but the rest you'll have to learn on your own."

"WHAT?" Ranma exclaimed incredulously. "I've finished your lessons? I've Mastered your entire school in under a month?"

"Not exactly," the coot corrected again. "I have only shown you the academic part of the school. The practical part is something you must find out alone. But I still have one or two things more to teach you before you start celebrating!"

-Whack!-

"Like respecting your Sensei when he is being serious! Now, make some more Storage Scrolls! Five scrolls should be enough. I'll be in the tent until then."

Grumbling internally to avoid another hit to the head, Ranma continued with his appointed task.

The Storage Scrolls were particularly difficult to make, as they required not only drawings on the inside of the paper, but on the outside as well. The inside of the scroll would of course be nearly illegible because of the squiggles and symbols, but the outside would look like it was covered mostly in red ink and a slim border of squiggles. This appearance could not be further from the truth.

The large surface of "red ink" was really a sign that the scroll was finished and ready for use. The outside, apart from the slim border, turned a solid red after a series of intricately woven symbols had been drawn in black ink, so small and closely spaced in size that they would be impossible to draw unless the maker had a steady hand and their face was within a foot of the scroll.

This, Ranma realized, was why his Sensei had been so strict about his handwriting, which had been worse than a doctor's. Even the tiniest imperfection could lead to a non-functional seal at best. At worst it would start draining the maker's ki until either the maker died from exhaustion or until the seal blew up, wounding or killing the maker.

With a little extra flare of his wrist, Ranma finished the Storage Scroll he was working on. The flare did not cause anything to change the scroll, but looked and felt cool.

A dull glow covered the scroll for a moment, and then faded away, leaving the scroll rolled up, thick, black stick in the middle and red along the outside middle, with black on white scribbled border on the paper.

"One," Ranma counted and checked the time. He had spent half an hour on the scroll, and he still had four more to do.

* * *

When the fifth scroll was finished, Ranma sighed in satisfaction, and started cleaning his supplies.

He hadn't been told to do so, but thought that he might as well. Performance with those tools might be hindered if grit and dried ink wasn't cleaned away immediately. And as he had been told repeatedly; hindered performance would not bring good results.

Once the ink rock and brush had been properly cleaned, Ranma gathered the scrolls and went to the tent.

"Sensei, I'm done!" he announced, trying not to sound too smug about it as that would mean that he might get additional chores before long.

Silence.

"Sensei?"

Opening the flap of the tent, Ranma was surprised to find it devoid of anything living.

However, sitting in the tent, was a large stack of scrolls, calligraphy supplies and books and on the top of it, a letter.

Scanning the area quickly, Ranma could not find a trace after the old coot, so he opened the letter and started reading.

Dear Student.

As you may have noticed, I am not much for goodbyes. I prefer leaving in silence.

Though I have been strict with you, I would like you to know that you are the best, and **only** student I've had.

You've learned in only a few short weeks what took me decades to master. You've got great potential, boy, make sure to use it well.

The scrolls and books I've left behind are copies of the reference texts I carry around with me, with their help, you should be able to figure out how to make new seals, or maybe even improve on those you learned from me. The extra supplies are a gift. Call me sentimental, but I never had any children of my own to pass my school on to, and your being my student made me realize what I missed out on by being a hermit. It is too late for me to change my ways, but to celebrate my discovery, I am going to the nearest cat house to see if anyone there will help me with getting an heir of my own blood. Chances are slim, but you never know; some ladies like their men old 'n wrinkly!

_That is all I have to say, good luck, have a good life, and remember to practice, or I'll come back as a ghost when I die and haunt you!_

Ranma dropped the letter in surprise as he realized that his Sensei had actually _complimented_ him.

The fact that the man had run away wasn't anything to think of, he had done the same just to get on the training trip and countless other times during the ten year training trip he had with his father. Though most of them were probably because Genma had _stolen_ something and needed to get away quickly.

Looking over the scrolls and books that awaited for him, Ranma couldn't help but imagine what he might be able to accomplish with the help of those things.

He might even make explosive seals like those found in his favorite Manga, or info cards from the same Manga.

The possibilities were almost limited only to his imagination!

* * *

Author's Notes: I based the Master of the Martial Arts Calligraphy on the crazy old coot from the Manga, who drew the mark on Ryoga's stomach and made him all but invincible, not the one that apparently shows up in the Anime to challenge anyone with a nice writing.

The training Ranma receives is not knowingly copied from anywhere, I just pictured how a strict teacher would act and went with it.

I know I didn't _show_ Ranma's Tree-walking or Water-walking training, but it tied better into the story as how it was written rather than any way I could have written. If it helps, imagine how a smart _Naruto_ with better control over his energies would have figured things out if he had been shown how it was done, but not given any explanations.

And as for the credibility of the Master having a form of Storage Scroll, where else would he keep all his spare supplies? That ink stick he used when preparing to draw the symbol on Ryoga's stomach was almost as big as his torso, and the ink stone was bigger than a washboard, he has to keep it all _somewhere_, right? And what is better suited to his school than a Storage Scroll?

Edit: Cleaned up the grammar and punctuation.


	3. Book 1 Chapter 03 Polishing Ones Skills

Posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book One

Chapter Three – Polishing Ones Skills

* * *

"Kyah!"

-Wham!-

"Hah!"

-Smash!-

"Ah, nothing like a little exercise to start the day," sighed Ranma as he looked on the tree-trunk he had been striking repeatedly with a stick for the past hour. It was part of his training, to make him used to wielding a weapon. Something about making him used to the shocks running into the hand while the sword stuck against another without dropping the sword. Ranma hadn't paid that much attention to the Kendo Sensei his father had stuck him with for a week to learn how to fight against sword-users five years before.

Now he wished he _had_ paid attention, as it would have made knowing what to do that much simpler.

Abandoning the Kendo practice for the day, Ranma went on to do his exercises.

After the effort of forming a set of bracers around his forearms, Ranma kicked two boulders into the air, and jumped towards the ground, hands outstretched.

-Taf!-Clack!-

One at a time, the boulders landed on his vertically positioned body, one on top of the other.

This was a new training routine Ranma had devised after a few failed tries. It trained his balance, strength and energy reserves and control all at once. He had tried doing this on water or vertical surfaces, but that required too much concentration for him to pull off, and having his hands touch the water made him change forms, which in turned robbed him of a great deal of strength and that led to strain and injuries.

As slowly as he could, Ranma started dropping down to the ground until his nose was barely touching it, then started rising again.

For half an hour, this procedure was repeated.

Then, suddenly, the bracers flickered out of existence, causing Ranma to lose his concentration and balance.

-Thud!-Clack!-

"Ow …" Ranma complained as he shifted the boulders off himself. "Maybe I should do those things separately from now."

Though he wasn't exactly _hurt_ by the falling boulders, it was still annoying to lose control and balance so quickly.

"Maybe I could try pull-ups instead …" he mused. "The boulders could be attached to my feet with a thread of chi, so I won't risk hurting myself with another fall … or I could stick my feet to the boulders while doing pull-ups to practice "tree-climbing" …"

Trailing off, Ranma did as he had thought out, and stuck his feet to the two boulders before trudging, with the boulders still attached to his feet like a pair of ridiculous shoes, to the mountain ledge hanging out over his camp.

After testing the ledge to make sure it would hold, Ranma lowered himself over it, and started pulling himself up, keeping his knees bent, stopping as his chin touched the ledge, then let himself slowly drop.

It was ten minutes later that the boulders dropped from his feet and barely missed his tent.

"Damn …" groaned Ranma as he watched the boulders settle. "I need to get stronger …"

It had been nearly a week since his last Sensei had abandoned him, which meant it had been about two months since he started his training trip and he was not satisfied with the results. Things weren't going fast enough!

He was exhausting himself several times daily, and yet he still wasn't progressing at a satisfactory rate!

This would have to change, somehow.

Not finding an immediate solution, Ranma took a break for food.

It was as he was biting off a hard boiled egg that a solution came to him.

He could suppress his ki, deliberately.

That would increase control, and meanwhile allow him to train his body to become stronger without the aid of ki running through him.

Suppressing his ki would make any action more strenuous to perform, but would yield better and quicker results, provided he didn't suppress his ki so much that his body thought he was dead and decide to give up completely.

He would have to start out slowly to be sure.

In order to suppress his ki, a few moments of intense concentration was in order, when he felt he had suppressed it by about ten percent, Ranma opened his eyes and looked at the boulders he had so easily moved around just before he ate, and decided to test his theory.

While the boulder was harder to move, it felt more like he had been doing full training all day without stop until that point, not as though he was working with restraints or heavier gravity like he had thought.

"This could still work …" Ranma reasoned and suppressed his ki even further.

* * *

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere!"

Looking down at himself, Ranma got acquainted with where he had placed his newly purchased training aides.

Around each wrist were as many as five twenty-pound wrist weights, the same for his feet, and about his torso was a vest containing about a hundred pounds in weights as well.

He had more weights in a second storage scroll for when he got adjusted to the weights.

It wasn't cheap, ending up costing most of his secret funds, nor was it easy to transport out of the shop, but he had gotten them in the nearest town when he went to restock his supplies. Transporting them back to camp had not been a problem even if the combined weight of the new equipment was close to half a ton. He still had several Storage Scrolls in stuff space, and had used them to hold the weights.

Granted, the weights were somewhat cumbersome, but not enough for their usefulness to be outweighed at this point.

Slowly, Ranma suppressed his ki to fifty percent, and was almost surprised that it took a little more effort to suppress than the day before when he had gone just as far.

Once he was done suppressing, he felt very tired, and the weights only made things worse.

With some effort, Ranma started doing basic kata, to get used to the new training regimen.

Within ten minutes, he was out of breath. After almost an hour, Ranma's muscles were burning from the constant strain, the weight and continuous movements.

But despite the pain, Ranma carried on.

After his most recent Neko Ken training, this pain was nothing but a mild irritant.

After two hours, Ranma collapsed in front of his tent, too tired to hold back his ki, and too tired to move.

"This is more like it," Ranma gasped. He could feel that there had been some improvement. It wasn't much, but more than he had managed until then. By his estimate, he would be able to last a full five minutes longer once he had rested up.

The problem was, he would require a lot of rest. Unless …

Measuring his breaths carefully, Ranma set himself into a meditative trance, while lying sprawled before the fire.

Energy was all around him, chi.

He had already learned how to focus that energy into making solid objects, as much concentration as that took. So why could he not use it to speed up his recovery rate? Like the warrior monk he had been told of.

Carefully testing his theory, Ranma found that converting one form of energy into another wasn't very difficult. Chi was really to ki what ice was to water, or steam; essentially the same thing, but a different state of it. In this case, the chi was steam and ki was water. All he had to do was change the conditions of the energy being absorbed into him to match his own.

His eyes snapping open, Ranma could feel all his strength returning, and his reserves being refilled.

"Success!" he exclaimed, and was about to continue training when he saw that the fire, which had been going merrily when he started, was now almost out, mostly glowing embers remaining.

Had so much time really passed?

This would not do, he should be able to refill his energies without it taking _that_/long!

After a quick bite to eat, Ranma went back to training, and managed to hold out a little longer than the last time, as predicted.

He once more tried to refill his energy, and again discovered that it took a while to transform the chi of his surroundings into ki. Granted, so did his chi weapons at first, so it might just be a slowly improving technique like the weapons. He might do it faster with practice.

"Better get back to it, then," Ranma sighed once he realized that he wasn't really tired, a possible side-effect of the re-energizing.

* * *

It was three weeks later that Ranma decided he had trained enough for now. He might have to take another trip in a few months so his skills wouldn't fade away, but for now, it would hopefully be enough.

He had grown a little, and as a result of his training, his muscles had increased in density and were more defined. His hair had grown a little, but wasn't anywhere near the length it had been … now that he thought about it, he almost preferred it as it was; a pigtail could get in the way during a fight. Like Akane had done so many times since they met, someone could use it to halt his progress by holding on to it and that could be dangerous.

This would of course mean that he'd have to get a haircut more often.

Packing up camp was fairly simple, especially with his Storage Scrolls and fairly well mastered stuff space technique.

By the time Ranma was done packing, the small clearing by the cliff looked like no one had set foot there for ages, which was how any responsible camper should leave their camp site.

Putting on his backpack, which was only filled with weights, Ranma started his return to civilization.

The nearest town was an hour away by his quick pace, which would mean about five to seven hours for any normal person, through rough terrain.

It was during this trip that he discovered what he started referring to as "Super Jump."

The super jump was a limited version of what Prince Herb had done. By bunching his legs up on the surface he was on, and filling his leg muscles with ki, he was able to propel himself forward at great lengths and heights like a bullet shot out of a gun, a boulder slung from a catapult or something similar. He wasn't able to stay up for very long at a time, so he wasn't hovering like Herb had, he was simply jumping greater distances.

It made his traveling far more interesting, as he could see above the treetops the closer he got, and leaped from tree to tree, simply for additional training and for fun.

Once he arrived in town, Ranma checked himself into a public bathhouse to be somewhat more presentable. No matter how much one tried, spending months in the wild would still not keep one completely clean. Besides, a _hot_ bath would be nice after so many cold ones that had been followed by a quick hot spray from the kettle.

The old men already in there were very surprised when the strong boy sitting on the stool before the furo was replaced by a busty redheaded girl. And they started thinking they had been hallucinating when the redhead returned to being a boy after touching the warm water and so they all departed early to visit their doctors. The few unemployed men that had decided to visit that morning decided they had been without, or away from women for so long that their _lower_ brain was tricking them into getting some relief. They left before they embarrassed themselves with unseemly public displays in this kind of environment. It was that kind of thing that could give one a nasty reputation as being of a sexual persuasion to which one did not belong.

* * *

After Ranma felt sufficiently clean, he found that a bus ran from town to Tokyo, and bought himself a seat on it. The sooner he was back after finishing his training the less one could claim that he had been thoughtless. An inconsiderate person would not have returned as soon as possible after finishing their task. Ranma could probably have gotten to Tokyo faster than the bus, but he felt like having a nap on the way.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Ranma once more set foot in Nerima.

Things were very quiet.

Too quiet.

Even as he came to the Tendo home, there were none of the usual sounds. No angry tomboys smashing bricks from the dojo. No cheating old men playing games. No humming from Kasumi, taking down clothes from the line or cleaning the house. No money-grubbing mercenary tallying her income for the day. No excited chattering from a baby-obsessed woman.

Nothing.

Carefully peeking in, he found all the doors locked, and all the windows closed.

The house was abandoned.

Because this had never happened to him before, Ranma never got a key for the front door. There had always been someone in when he got there.

Where had they all gone?

What should he do?

Where should he go?

There was only one place that sprung to mind, where he wouldn't be affectionately assaulted or groped. It was risky, but it was his only choice; he would have to visit his mother as he had said he would and hope she wasn't upset with him for not visiting sooner.

Stowing his backpack back onto his shoulders, Ranma took to the rooftops.

It was a half hour later, just past midnight, that Ranma landed in the garden of the Saotome home, which had been rebuilt not more than a month before the Jusendo incident.

There were lights on, so Ranma knew his mother was awake.

Entering the house carefully, Ranma slipped out of his shoes, and called out. "Tadaima!"

"Ranma?"

The voice that called out was not the one he had expected.

Storming into the hallway was _Kasumi_, who looked both surprised and pleased to see him.

"Kasumi?" asked Ranma. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask the same thing, Saotome," commented another voice just before its owner entered, revealing an annoyed Nabiki.

"Nabiki? What's going on here? Where's mom?"

"I'm here, son," came the voice of the woman who had given Ranma life. Emerging into the hallway, was Nodoka. "And I would like to know where you have been and why you saw fit to use me as a decoy for running away."

"Er …"

"I'd like to know that as well," added Nabiki with a greedy glint in her eye.

"Well …"

"Ranma," Nodoka encouraged warningly.

"I was on a training trip," Ranma sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I used the excuse of visiting you to get away without being followed, but it was the only way I could get some proper training done! If anyone had known, they would have insisted on coming with me, and held me back in some way!"

"Are you saying that the man who trained you for ten years would be an obstacle?" asked Nodoka sternly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Ranma agreed. "He'd spend most of my time complaining about how girlish his son was, and how much of a disgrace it was to have a son who had to learn meditation, or steal what little food I brought with me!"

"And what about our sister?" asked Nabiki coolly.

"She'd try to convince me that she was good enough to go through my training, or make me sick with her cooking, like she did when I had to learn the counter to the Bakusai Tenketsu," Ranma countered. Then he realized that if _two_ Tendo sisters were there, Akane may be right around the corner, listening in.

The sudden switch of expressions from confident to terrified was not missed by the others.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Saotome," Nabiki cut in. "Akane is spending the weekend with some friends. Though she isn't happy about you abandoning her. She accused you of hiding at each of your other fiancees, if memory serves …"

"But you haven't answered my questions, yet," Ranma sighed in resignation. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here because father and Mr Saotome are in China, looking for you," Kasumi explained. "They thought you might have gone to Jusenkyo to get cured, and left to get you."

"And for some reason, dad didn't think we would be capable of taking care of ourselves while they were gone," Nabiki added. "So he sent us here. Now, let's talk about compensations for all the money you cost me with your little scheme."

"What money?" Ranma asked, knowing what Nabiki was referring to. Without him around, there was only Akane to take pictures of, and Akane's pictures didn't sell quite as well as Ranko. "If anything, I would have thought that my absence would _save_ money from your family's expenses."

Though Nodoka was lost in this conversation, she was also interested to know how Ranma could cost money by being gone.

"Allow me to correct your statement," Nabiki drawled. "After you left, your rivals and _other problems_ started looking for you. Some of them even went as far as to tear down a few walls in our house during that search, claiming we were just hiding you. And then, after you left, Happosai started another panty raid, stealing panties from all over the district. He dropped a few on the head of your father, making the angry mob of women following the old lecher think that _he_ was the thief, which led to property destruction and hospital bills."

"My son can't be held accountable for that!" Nodoka protested. "Granted, it may not have happened if he hadn't left, but he cannot control the will of others, no matter how _manly_ he is!"

"Yeah!" Ranma agreed, ignoring the Manly comment.

"They are his responsibility," Nabiki clarified, annoyed at not being understood. "Without Ranma around, there is no one to keep them in check. And so, the bill falls to you. That will be one million yen … cash."

"No," Ranma objected.

"Excuse me, Saotome?"

"I'm not going to pay for those idiots," Ranma clarified. "They made the mess, so they can clean it up. Making me responsible for them would be the same as blaming me for the hurricanes that, according to chaos theory, is caused by the flutters of a butterfly on the other side of the world. I can't predict or prevent _everything_ my fellow Martial Artists do, so I will not pay and there isn't a thing you can do about it."

Nabiki was not the only one taken aback by Ranma's sudden resolve.

"Oh, my son is even _manlier_ than when he left!"

Nodoka wasted no time in engulfing her son in a hug that would normally have been rib-crushing, but to Ranma, it wasn't anything to worry about.

* * *

Author's Notes: I made up the part about ki and chi being like water and steam, but I thought it sounded good; maybe magic could be the ice in this little analogy.

I've never been to any Public Bath Houses, mostly because there are none in the vicinity of my home to my knowledge. I tried to use what I remembered from the bath house parts of the Ranma series, and what I've seen in other anime/manga about hot springs and furos. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

I also deliberately skipped the Hinako unsuccessfully draining him, because I wanted some time to have passed between the end of the Prologue chapters and the main story.

And before anyone complains about the short length of this chapter, or the abrupt ending, please keep in mind that not a single one of any other chapter in this story has been under two thousand words. And the abrupt ending was simply because I felt it a good place to end the chapter, and drawing things out any further would only make things boring.

Edit: Punctuation and grammar. I'm starting to become annoyed with all the ellipses I used.


	4. Book 2 Chapter 01 The Beginning Conflict

Posted: Saturday 24 March 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 25 March 2007

Re-posted: Monday 26 March 2007

Re-posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter One – The Beginning Conflict

* * *

JFK International Airport was very busy, which was only natural when the great number of people passing through such a place in a day is taken into consideration.

Standing in the open hall immediately after customs was a dark-haired teenage boy. His hair was cut short, with the exception of his bangs, which hung a little down his forehead. His clothes consisted of a white, short sleeved cotton shirt, black denim pants, and canvas high top shoes. Slung over his shoulder was a white canvas bag, similar to those sailors brought with them to carry their possessions when they went out to sea, and this contained what any sensible traveler would bring with them as carry-on luggage; toiletries, a change of clothes, passport, and something to occupy the time with during the long flight.

This young man was Saotome Ranma, age seventeen, and he was not very happy.

Ranma's emotional state was understandable, considering he had been on a thirteen hour, non-stop flight between Narita and JFK.

His seat had been strategically placed so he had no view of the TV screens that showed movies throughout the trip, and his headphones had something nasty in the earpieces, and the attendant refused to retrieve a replacement set because "all headphones were sealed, and we can't replace them just because you had an accident with them," the man even tried to force money from him just because he meant it was _his_ fault the things were filthy.

Then there were the meals, all of them too small and spaced too far between. His only other alternative would have been to _buy_ something, and Ranma was not about to use his hard-earned and hard-kept money on overpriced, small quantities of snacks.

To make things worse, he had a child sitting next to him, flying alone, who spent a big part of the flight running back and forth between his seat and the bathroom, found it very amusing to stand in his seat and press Ranma's call button for the attendant, making the staff angry at _him_ instead of the kid, and they refused to listen to reason. If it wasn't for his strict code of honor, Ranma would have taught the child a lesson by beating the fear of Martial Arts into him.

Once he had arrived at JFK, the police officers wandering the Immigrations area were not satisfied with how he had filled out his Visa, and he was sent to do them again as many as _three_ times.

The Customs Officers found it suspicious that he had not picked up any luggage from the conveyor belt, and repeatedly asked him if he had forgotten, or if he had smuggled an explosive device into his luggage and was trying to get away before it was set off. Since they had him in their hands anyway, they searched his carry-on luggage, and clothes. Luckily, a cavity search was not deemed necessary.

And there he was, waiting for a representative of the school he was sent to, to show up. Or at least someone from the Boarding House he would be staying at. It had been almost three hours since he got through Customs, and there had been no sign of anyone looking for him yet.

He had barely gotten a days' notice to prepare and pack for this Foreign Exchange Student Program which apparently had been in the works for a while, and then no one bothered to pick him up when he arrived. What kind of crappy school was it he had been sent to?

The Principal of Bayville High School had initiated the exchange, specifically asking for Ranma by name. And in exchange Furinkan would get someone who could actually _play_ Baseball in its intended form instead of the violent way. The poor sap apparently also had a very good grade point average.

This begged the question: Why Ranma?

Only Principal Darkholme knew, and she had not shown up or given word since the letter Ranma was given by Principal Kuno. The letter wasn't even very warm, only highlighting the location of the School and the address of the Boarding House he would be staying at. It also said that someone would pick him up, but since no one had come three hours after he had, Ranma had enough and took out a map he was given at the Information Desk when he had asked if anyone had left a message for him explaining the delay.

Using the sun to navigate, Ranma took this as a training exercise in endurance and speed, and started running along the road, making sure to keep enough distance from it to keep the police from stopping him for being a danger to traffic. Of course, in order for the police to stop him, they would have to be very good, because Ranma weaved in and out between light poles, leaped across intersections, or used the light poles to practice his accuracy and balance by leaping from top to top. At one time, Ranma landed on a bus for a breather before he continued.

Jumping from light post to light post actually reminded him somewhat of the training he and his father did at Jusenkyo before they fell in.

It was getting dark when Ranma saw the sign along the road, welcoming him to Bayville, and though he was getting tired, he was not even sweaty or out of breath from the strenuous activity. This was a product of the intense training he had put himself through immediately after the failed wedding; he had cut it close with Saffron and knew he had won on pure luck and coincidences, and as such was not about to be caught off guard again. A three month training trip on his own was the perfect thing. Of course, he had to take it on the run or in the wild to keep his suitors and rivals from finding him.

For the three months he trained, Ranma had put himself through many strange training ideas. Some were successful while others weren't.

Some inspiration was taken from movies, Anime or Manga, while others came from what he had seen in his life.

He had more or less Mastered the Neko-Ken, and as such no longer had a fear of anything feline. This Mastery also had the added benefit of allowing him to form weapons and shields out of pure _chi_. That's right, _chi._ Ranma had gotten to the point in control where he absorbed chi from his surroundings to perform techniques, rather than expend his own precious spiritual energy, ki. This did not, however, mean that he would _never_ tire. Every action Ranma performed demanded some focus, much like a funnel or focusing lens, which cost ki. Ranma's reserves for ki now almost rivaled Herb, but unlike the Dragon-prince, Ranma's reserves could be refilled by chi when he concentrated. The downside to his newly learned ability was that at his current level of skill, it took more effort than was efficient in the middle of a battle. He would have to use the Saotome Secret Technique: Fast Break, to have the time to regenerate.

Just before he had found out about the Exchange Program, Ranma's power was actually such that Hinako-Sensei couldn't even make Ranma visibly tired when she drained him. _She_ got "full" before Ranma's eye even drooped. But then, that may have been a side-effect of being exposed to the drain so many times he had started developing an immunity to it.

The weapons which he could make of chi were pure white, could withstand any force, and cut through nearly anything, not to mention Ranma could produce any melee weapon he was familiar with from the energy. The shields worked pretty much as the weapons, but any solid manifestation could only last for a few minutes before Ranma would lose his concentration, and needed to convert some chi into ki in order to channel chi into solid form.

Most of the techniques Ranma had thought up, he had written down in a college pad, including reference to where he had gotten the ideas, and possible solutions to how the technique could be executed in real life. The ones he _did_ get right, and not many had gotten past that stage yet, would be noted down on separate scrolls.

Having remembered the effectiveness of the drawing on Ryoga's stomach while he had it, Ranma sought out the wandering Master of Martial Arts Calligraphy, and got lessons in exchange for food. Now, Ranma could in theory and with great patience, references and research, not to mention brush-strokes, produce any effect he wanted, including but not limited to exploding notes, info cards and storage scrolls. There were only a few wards and seals Ranma had Mastered, but the wandering Master had been kind enough to give Ranma several scrolls he could use for reference to develop his own seals and wards, in exchange for the remainders of Ranma's food supplies at that time.

Continuing in the venue of fiction, Ranma experimented to further his knowledge in what was referred to in Naruto as "Tree-climbing". He already knew how to do that for short periods of time, and had used it several times when he was afraid and clinging to a ceiling, or when he stood horizontally on the trunk of a tree when he first met Kuno. With some training Ranma managed to casually walk up, down and around various surfaces, or even use it to stick to the ground to avoid falling from a blow, but would only be able to hold on for half an hour at most.

"Water-walking" had immediately followed, but required a somewhat different approach than what was explained in Naruto. Instead of relying solely on pressing energy out his feet down into the water, Ranma learned to spread his weight over a large surface area of water as well. This could only be kept up for fifteen continuous minutes at the time Ranma returned from his training trip.

For the fun of it, Ranma continued drawing inspiration for techniques from various graphic story-telling devices alongside his regular training. By the end of his training trip, his college pad had gotten filled completely with ideas for improvements and techniques.

Snapping from his thoughts, Ranma saw his new home; the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House.

It was not a very attractive place. The paint was pealing, the windows were covered with grime, and the dead lawn was more or less covered with discarded beverage containers, fast food wrappers or bags.

A somewhat well kept, olive green jeep was parked outside.

Finding the door locked, Ranma did the only civilized thing he could do. He knocked, since the doorbell didn't seem to work. Thankfully, the frame of the door was sturdy, or there might have been a danger of the door falling off its hinges. The door didn't look like it could withstand much more than a gentle gust of air.

After nearly a minute of waiting, a group of teenaged boys opened, and they did not look happy.

One had white hair slicked back, and had an air of superiority about him, as though he owned the world and expected everyone to know it.

The next was sickly pale, unkempt and as a result, had a none-too-unpleasant smell about him. He also had a slumped posture, and seemed skittish at the sight of Ranma. Like a mouse knowing it was about to get chased by a tiger.

Behind him stood a boy that reminded Ranma of a large Sumo wrestler, only with blonde hair in a short Mohawk.

And finally there was a boy with a brown mullet, and looked like a rebel.

"What do _you_ want?" asked the white-haired one snottily.

Ranma raised a brow in challenge of the boy's tone. "I was told that I would be living here," he explained simply in only slightly accented English. "Now, if you would introduce yourself, and let me in, I can get some much needed sleep. It was a long flight, and a long walk."

"Heh," chuckled the big one. "You talk funny, you Chinese or sumthin'?"

"Japanese," Ranma corrected, getting annoyed at being kept from blissful sleep. "And I pride myself in being better than most of my fellow school-mates at practical stuff, like languages and physical education. But that's not saying much …" Loosely translated, Ranma wasn't interested in other subjects, because in his opinion they didn't carry any practical application in the real world. He usually slept through those classes he didn't like. He had learned the hard way that knowing a language was important. The curse was a constant reminder for Ranma to listen for languages and connections each foreign word had to other words in other languages, so he would at least know a warning when he heard one. _Stupid panda._

Moving towards the door, Ranma hoped the boys would be sensitive enough to pick up on what he'd told them earlier.

No such luck, as the rebel stepped into his path, blocking the entrance.

"If you think you're staying here," he started. "You must have been on the _butt_ end of a joke, because _we_ are the only ones here, and we didn't invite you!"

"Principal Darkholme sent for me as part of a Foreign Exchange Program, and said in her letter that I was to stay here," Ranma insisted, struggling to keep his temper which had been bubbling under the surface for the entire flight for New York. "She even told me which room had been assigned to me!"

"I'm not buyin' it," sneered the white-haired kid. "Darkholme hasn't shown her face for well over a week. If she had recruited another mutant, we'd have known about it …"

"Mutant?" Ranma questioned. "Like Gojira?"

"No, man," objected the sickly boy. "It's Godzilla, and we mean, like havin' special powers n'stuff …"

"I think I know my own language better than you," Ranma commented. "And I'm a Martial Artist, every skill I have I've _earned_ through hardship and training! I've never accepted a free power-up! That's the way of the sloth!" of course, he _had_ attempted to get free power-ups in the past, but most of them had either been misused by less honorable people, or had been some sort of possible cure for his curse. But they didn't have to know that.

"You mean you ain't a mutant?" asked the big boy, menacingly cracking his knuckles.

"No," Ranma confirmed. "I'm not."

The big kid pushed Ranma back outside forcefully, catching Ranma off guard, but not enough for him to fall as he stumbled onto the driveway.

"Then you don't belong here," stated the rebel. "_Beat it_ before we send you to the hospital."

"I'm not leaving," Ranma objected firmly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Then _I_ say we'll _make_ you leave," declared the white-haired boy with a smirk, and disappeared from view with tremendous speed.

Ranma was possibly the only one who could follow the boy clearly as he blurred out of sight, running around him mockingly. It was at times like this Ranma appreciated having faced so many insane Martial Artist with oh-so-many equally insane styles of Martial Arts. Such instances as those had taught him to follow an opponent no matter the speed, but with _all_ senses instead of simply the eyes, because sight can be deceiving because of the narrow focus the line of sight had, the other senses are much more accurate and less limited.

Not wanting to use his full power, being tired and weary, Ranma pretended to be confused until he finished timing the boy's movements and dropped to the ground with a leg extended just fast enough to pass for talented, and just in time to trip the boy so he went flying into the wall with a meaty thump, knocking him unconscious.

"Pitiful," Ranma commented. "Speed, skill and strength go hand-in-hand, having one without the others make you unbalanced, and being unbalanced will lead to your downfall. You're about a hundred years too early to beat me …" Ah, the finer arts of the Saotome School of Anything Goes; insult your opponent until they start making mistakes.

This comment did not sit well with the other boys and the pale, smelly one leaped at Ranma in a style reminiscent of a frog, flipping in the air to extend his feet so he would stomp Ranma with all his body weight, made heavier with the help of speed and gravity.

Ranma grabbed both legs just inches from his chest, halting the unclean boy instantly. The hit would have knocked most people back, maybe even knocked someone out, but Ryoga hit harder than that and after his training trip Ranma was proud of having mastered the Breaking Point, which afforded him great endurance in addition to his previous speed. The strength to halt the attack without forcing him to grimace with the strain the attack really put on him.

He may not be a great actor, but when it came to being macho in a fight, Ranma was among the best and would not give away any weakness.

"Nice try," Ranma commented to the kid who was still recovering from the shock of not reaching his target. "But too slow, and I could tell from your posture you would be the next to attack so I had plenty of time to prepare."

Mimicking the Olympic game of Hammer-Throw Ranma sent the boy flying into the wall next to the previous attacker.

He didn't want too much trouble later, so he avoided making the kid land on the spoiled one to put them in compromising positions.

The ground suddenly started shaking under Ranma's feet, and while swaying with the rocking motion to maintain his balance, he immediately traced the disturbance back to its source. The rebel, who stood with his legs apart for balance as well, and clenched fists raised to the chest as though he was lifting weights. His face showed as much concentration as would be required for such a task.

Before Ranma could counter that attack with a Breaking Point, a large shadow covered him, making him look up, where he saw the fat kid rapidly descending on him in what looked like a belly flop. For someone so big, the boy certainly managed to gain an impressive altitude in his jump.

Seeing an opportunity, Ranma took to the air, and modifying the lessons he unwillingly learned from Happosai combined with charts he had seen in Tofu-Sensei's office, kicked the fat kid in a pressure point to induce sleep, which also redirected the giant boy towards the rebel, who did not see this coming, and thus was squashed under the massive weight of his housemate.

Sighing at having to resort to force simply to get into his new home, Ranma rolled the fat kid off the rebel, and checked everyone for lasting damages. He found none, so he settled for bruising them with advice written on their foreheads so they would know what they did wrong, namely mess with him.

Securing his bag over his shoulder, Ranma entered the house, finding the inside to be even messier than the outside.

The wallpaper was dirty and torn in places. The floor was covered in filth, which made distinguishing the regular travel patterns easy as these were the only places the filth was worn off some. Several pieces of wood were missing from the banister up the stairs. A veritable school of houseflies roamed the house, but stayed _chiefly_ near the overflowing trash can. And most appliances seemed to be broken.

Ranma wasn't about to start cleaning up those kids' mess, so he went upstairs, following the directions his letter gave him, and found an empty room containing only a bed and chest of drawers. The room was moderately clean since the other occupants of the house only seemed to have entered the room to examine it. Ranma was glad that he seemed to have his own bathroom, because he didn't want to know how things would be if he shared one with those pigs, and the plain double-hung sash window had a good view of the street running alongside the house.

Dropping his bag on the bed, Ranma was disappointed to see a cloud of dust rising from it.

This place needed a good cleaning, and it seemed he would have to do that before he would be able to sleep.

Finding a pristine broom in a cupboard in the hallway, Ranma went about sweeping the floor. Before he finished that task, however, he opened the window, and proceeded to shake the pillow, blankets, duvets and sheets outside. The mattress was next, taken outside through the open door and past the unconscious teens, and beaten until all dust and such had been removed. Only when the bed was made did Ranma do another round to finish sweeping the floor and dumped the considerably large pile of dust out his window. Then to brighten the room, Ranma had to wash the window, inside and out.

And since he had already started cleaning the bedroom, his bathroom practically screamed at him that it was filthy, making him clean _it_ as well.

It was half an hour after he arrived that Ranma started unpacking, satisfied with how clean his room was. Granted it wasn't up to Kasumi's standards, but then few things ever could measure up to what she did.

Because his housemates seemed like the hostile, vengeful type, Ranma pulled out a roll of blank paper not unlike the kind found in cash registers or old accounting machines, and started painting on it with a brush he had pulled from stuff space.

The paper was broken into several pieces, all of which were placed on the door, the window which was sectioned in two, each wall both in the room and bathroom, on the small window in the bathroom, and on the ceiling and floor. The designs on these was that of a protective ward, making the surface the wards were attached to more or less indestructible by drawing on chi from the air to create a protective barrier throughout the material. This also had the side effect of shutting out sound from both sides. This was one of the wards Ranma had Mastered during his training, with a great deal of instruction, and chastising. That wandering Master had been very strict when it came to teaching.

Of course, as soon as the wards had been attached, the paper blended with the surface perfectly, making it impossible to detect them unless it was by experts who knew what to look for. They could only be removed by Ranma, a safeguard Ranma had added into the formula with some help from the scrolls he had been given.

Unlike what most of his friends, family and enemies assumed, Ranma wasn't a fool like his father. Though he didn't like going to school, he tried to be prepared for anything. This was the reason for fortifying his room; better safe than sorry.

Next, Ranma made a few more slips of paper, and attached one across the keyhole of his door, and the others on the seams between the windows and sills. These were locking wards, another Mastered ward that had almost literally been _beaten_ into him, preventing anyone but Ranma from opening them. This was to prevent anyone from breaking in for any purpose.

Inspecting his work, Ranma was satisfied, and got ready for bed.

As he lay back in the freshly made bed, waiting for sleep to claim him, Ranma tinkered with an idea for another seal, one that would allow him to increase the effects of gravity on him and thus enable him to train all day without it being noticed or thought of as weird. That would be fun. But Seal Creation took time, so this problem would not be solved over night. Until then, he would just have to continue working hard to push the limits of his skills.

And so, after ten minutes of pondering what combination of seals would be needed for the new seal, Ranma fell asleep, not worrying about the four teen boys that still lay unconscious outside. After all, they were buffoons and deserved no special consideration from him after what they had attempted to do.

* * *

Author's Notes: For those who are keeping track, this story starts just before the first episode of the second season in X-Men: Evolution. Yes, Ranma will become a mutant later on, somewhere after chapter ten. I have decided on his powers, but won't tell what they are, because I know I'll get flames for it. I have also decided on a pairing, which will be revealed in time, but until the time when Ranma starts looking for a serious commitment, he will be dating other girls. This is not, nor will it turn into a SLASH. Unlike most stories, this one will not suppress Ranma's hormones. Like most guys, he will be tempted to do certain things, and will more often than not, act on them, discreetly. I have not gotten rid of the curse, but some circumstances will have taken place for Ranma to be more at ease with it. I can't make any promises for after the mutant power activates, though.

Credits: The idea for constantly refilling Ranma's ki by absorbing chi came from "One-Shot" in his "Just Won't Die" series, Naruto's world. I merely adapted it for my own purposes.

It was pointed out to me the very first day of the story's posting that Ranma was too strong, and that has been corrected as much as I think I can get away with. Any more and there wouldn't be much of a story. But if you still think Ranma sounds too powerful, then I hope you would be considerate enough not to let me fumble around in the dark for the parts you will no doubt inform me of. It's very difficult to find a fault when one only has a vague notion that something is wrong _somewhere._ Please be specific when telling me these things.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure and punctuation, mainly. It peeves me that it has taken most of the day to get this far in the story.


	5. Book 2 Chapter 02 First Day

Posted: Monday 02 April 2007

Re-posted: Wednesday 04 April 2007

Re-posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Two – First Day

* * *

It was early morning when Ranma woke, and the sun was shining through his window by means of a reflection from the building on the other side of the street.

It was both a pleasant way to wake up, as well as unpleasant.

The unpleasant part was the sudden brightness burning through the eyelids and a pleasant dream.

The pleasant part was that it was a silent method, which meant no annoying noise, and thus held no sense of urgency. One could turn over to escape the light, but noise would have to be stopped if one wanted to wake up at a slower rate.

Stretching, Ranma pondered the nice differences between waking up here, waking up at the Tendo home, and waking up on the road. And this led to musing about his training.

He had learned to walk on water and any other surface. His reserves needed some work, though. Meditation would help this along eventually.

For most of his training trip, Ranma had lugged a half-ton boulder around, carried on his back and only removed when he slept or meditated. This was to train strength and endurance. It was very slow going to begin with, but the burden got a little easier to bear for each day.

For light snacks while he made camp, Ranma would have chestnuts roasted on the camp fire to increase his efficiency in his speed. Of course, this was not sufficient to nurture a teenage boy in training, so some hunting was required in some less populated places, to conserve his supplies for a little longer.

To make effective use of his newly found gift for forming chi objects, Ranma had practiced one or two weapon kata for as long as he could hold the shape of the weapons, something his father would have not only frowned upon but outright tried to beat out of him. For that reason Ranma kept his skill a secret from everyone. The only way for him to be able to hold the energy solid for longer would be to practice, so Ranma made it a point to create something out of chi every chance he got, for as long as it held.

Snapping from his contemplations, Ranma decided it was time to get up. He had to squeeze in a kata before breakfast, then he had to be at school to meet with the Principal so he could be introduced to his classes.

* * *

After his morning kata, Ranma showered quickly, made a pair of thin bracers out of chi to rest on his forearms, and left the house.

Not wanting to rely on the morons he humiliated the night before, Ranma searched out a convenience store for some prepared sandwiches and some orange juice, as this would likely be the only tolerable substitution for breakfast and lunch within his means that day.

Thankfully, Bayville wasn't any less friendly than any other town, and after Ranma had paid for his items the nice lady behind the counter had verified his written directions, and wished him a good day.

Finding the school wasn't much trouble after that, and it was still a while until school actually started.

Unfortunately, Principal Darkholme had not included a map of the school, so Ranma was forced to stop and ask students for directions to the Principal's office, and not many of them were very cooperative, choosing to ignore him in favor of their friends.

It was only a few minutes before the bell rang, after Ranma met a kind, British girl with too much make-up and a few purple streaks in her black hair, who showed him the way that Ranma found himself waiting in the secretary's office, waiting for the Principal to get off the phone.

The boys at the Boarding House hadn't been telling untruths about Darkholme being gone. The secretary, a woman in her early thirties with a blonde version of Nabiki's hair and a pale pink business dress, had informed him as much when he asked. A new Principal would be instated that very day, and he was the one currently in the office, making a few calls.

Ranma very much doubted the man was really calling anyone. He was willing to bet big money that the man was reading his file to prepare for their little talk.

But the wait gave Ranma with more time to ponder.

His family and friends hadn't reacted well to the news of him having to travel all the way to Bayville.

Akane had jumped to the conclusion that he had requested this on his own and to voice her thoughts she slammed the dinner table down on his head before stomping off with a squealing P-Chan in her arms, muttering about never going to marry a gender-confused, flirting, perverted bully.

Ranma thought he had handled the accusation very well. The raspberry he had given her retreating back was luckily not noticed and so he was spared further physical punishment.

Genma had started out upset, like Akane was, but then the little gears in his head had started turning and he had turned completely around, proclaiming that "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" and similar such things. Soun had joined him in a celebration of the joining of the schools when Ranma was to return from his foreign education.

Kasumi, though sad about Ranma leaving, had wished him well and given him some cookbooks. She had learned the content by heart and didn't need them, so she thought Ranma might like to have some variation in his diet while abroad.

Nodoka had exclaimed how Manly her son was to leave so he could go about Sowing his Oats in a different country.

Nabiki had sold the information to Ranma's suitors and rivals the moment she heard about it, which had led to Ranma packing his things into stuff space with numerous fading bruises on his body from the battle that had taken place with him in the middle.

"Principal Kelly will see you now, Mr Saotome," the secretary called, interrupting Ranma's thoughts. The woman gave him a withering look, as though he had severely slighted her in some way.

"Thank you," Ranma stated as he got up, at least trying to be polite.

The secretary huffed and returned to her work.

Sighing at the lost effort, Ranma entered the office of Principal Kelly.

Sitting behind a nice desk with a large window directly behind, overlooking the Sports Field, was a well-groomed man in his late thirties, wearing a blue blazer, a cream-white shirt, and a white on red candy-striped tie. On his face was perched a pair of glasses.

"Good morning, Mr Saotome, my name is Edward Kelly," Kelly greeted politely, and stood from his comfortable chair to lean over his desk with his hand extended. Ranma was familiar enough with this Western custom to know he was supposed to grasp the hand firmly but without crushing it, and pump it up and down at least once, he did so, but miscalculated his own strength a little, as was evident when Principal Kelly winced and shook the hand after it was released. "That's quite a grip you've got there," he commented lightly.

"Sorry," Ranma apologized. "I've recently been on a training trip, so I'm not entirely accustomed to limiting myself to the level of untrained people. No offense intended."

"None taken," Kelly assured him.

"Out of curiosity," started Ranma. "You wouldn't happen to know why Principal Darkholme arranged for me to come here, would you?"

"She left nothing behind to indicate a reason," Kelly confessed. "But I've been reading your file-" Ranma smirked, knowing his guess had been correct. "-and it indicates that you tend to get yourself into trouble. Let me get this straight from the start: I will not tolerate any mischief or insubordination in my school. If I catch you instigating any such activities, I will make sure you get punished accordingly. I don't plan on giving any students a free ride. Do I make myself clear?"

"Unequivocally so, sir," Ranma replied, knowing that he would not make his situation any better by trying desperately to lay blame on someone else. He also hoped that throwing in a fancy word would help lessen his image as a bad-boy. It was one of the words he had managed to pick up somewhere, and had been waiting for an opportunity to use.

"Good," stated Kelly. "Now, Dorothy will give you your class schedule, and you can proceed to the Gym, where there will be an assembly shortly."

Ranma thanked the man for his time, and exited the room, to be greeted again by the secretary, who gave him a quick scowl before having to print out his schedule.

For the life of him Ranma couldn't imagine what he had done to insult her, but was sure that should he ask, he would either get an answer that would puzzle him or the standard "If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you," reply, so he accepted the sheets of paper he was handed, and thanked her politely before leaving, following the slowly trickling flow of students heading for assembly.

Along the way, Ranma bumped into the British girl, who turned a corner around the building at the same time.

"Oh," she exclaimed as she fell backwards.

Ranma reacted on instinct, and caught her before she hit the ground. So as not to give the wrong impression, Ranma quickly returned her to upright position and took a step away from her. "Sorry, it's my first day," the two apologized simultaneously.

The girl snickered and extended her hand for Ranma to shake. "Hello, I'm Risty Wilde … I just transferred in from Manchester, England."

"Saotome Ranma," returned Ranma, before slapping his own face. "Saotome is my family name, sorry. Force of habit. Call me Ranma, I was volunteered for a Foreign Exchange Program. I'm from Japan."

"Whereabouts in Japan?" asked Risty after a short laugh at his expense for fumbling up the order of his name.

"All over, really. All over /Asia/, to be precise," stated Ranma. "But for the last year, I've been mostly in Nerima, a part of Tokyo."

"My, it sounds like you've had an interesting life," commented Risty.

"You don't know the half of it," Ranma commented under his breath.

"Maybe we should hurry up," Risty added, indicating the students who had almost completely disappeared into a large building that could only be the Gym.

Ranma couldn't help but agree. It wouldn't make a good impression to be late on his first day.

* * *

In the Gym, most of the seats in the indoor bleachers had been filled by the noisy students of the school.

Some seats in the front row had been left alone, and in the middle of the hall a podium had been erected, behind which stood a mild-mannered man in earth tones and with a brown mustache, trying to calm down the students who had been talking to each other, laughing, telling jokes and had thrown paper airplanes.

Along the wall opposite where Ranma and Risty entered stood Ranma's housemates trying to look cool, something that was difficult with the message "Don't mess with Ranma" written in bruises on their foreheads. Granted, the rebel and stinky kid managed to hide most of it, because of their hair, but the other two weren't as lucky, and were silently fuming.

Risty grabbed Ranma's hand and pulled him into one of the seats in front, and pulled out her own schedule.

"Can you make any sense out of this?" she asked, holding it up to Ranma's face.

"Not really," Ranma admitted. "I was hoping to find someone with my own schedule to foll- HEY, you've got an exact match of my schedule! What are the odds of that?"

"I'd imagine it wouldn't be very good odds …" commented Risty. Just then a girl in a green mesh top, a studded choker around her neck, and with black pants and black sports-bra under the top, walked in front of them. "Excuse me!" called Risty after her, causing her to stop. Ranma noted that her brown hair had a section of white where her bangs would normally be, possibly caused from a traumatic event. "How long do these assemblies usually last?"

"Huh?" the girl looked at Risty's questioning expression, then at Ranma who mirrored it. "Oh, _too_ long," she commented, and took a seat on Risty's other side. "But at least it gets us out of class …"

"Ah, yes, class," Risty continued, and showed her the schedule. "My next one should be …"

It was clear even to Ranma that Risty was fishing for an answer.

"Geometry with Mr Barton," the girl pointed out, looking at the schedule. "You're new."

Ranma wanted to comment that he was not new, he had after all been alive for a little over seventeen years, but kept quiet. Not many people understood such jokes.

"Yes, we _both_ are," Risty agreed, indicating Ranma and herself. "I'm Risty Wilde, from Manchester, England. This is Ranma Saotome, from Tokyo, Japan."

"Ah'm Rogue," the girl replied. Ranma waited a moment for her family name, but when it didn't come, he couldn't help himself.

"Are you Ronin?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"I think I've heard of that," Risty interrupted. "In old times in Japan, before the modernization, if a Samurai was without a Master, he was Ronin, which was considered a great disgrace. The classification isn't supposed to still exist, but if it does, Ronin would be what those that are banished from their family or clan are called. In almost all Asian cultures, family is everything, and being banished from your family is by most considered a great dishonor."

"Ah ain't no disgrace!" Rogue objected.

"I didn't insinuate that," Risty placated. "And I don't think Ranma meant any offense," at this point Ranma indicated that he agreed. He didn't want any more enemies. Especially, and he would _never_ admit to it even under torture, girls who displayed as much without wearing any less.

"Right," Rogue hesitated. "Hang out afterward, Ah'll show you where Barton's class is."

"And now, everyone," interrupted the man at the podium, having felt he spent enough time trying to calm everyone down. "Let's give a warm Bayville High welcome to our new Principal, Mr Edward Kelly!"

More out of politeness than actual enthusiasm, the students started applauding and cheering as the man in question got up from his seat a few feet behind the podium, where several other faculty members were sitting, and approached the podium.

Just before he reached his destination, he fell over, because the entire Gym started shaking.

Ranma turned towards where he knew he had seen his housemates, and saw the rebel sitting in the bleachers behind a girl with her hair in a ponytail, while wearing a frilly pink shirt over a white top and faded jeans. Only the second button from the top of the shirt was buttoned up, leaving the rest of the shirt open.

The shaking stopped for a moment, then something was said between the rebel and girl, and the shaking started up again, stronger than before.

Hearing an ominous creaking sound over the rumbling, Ranma looked away from the rebel, and up to the ceiling, where a digital score board was hanging. The tremors were causing the board to shake and sway on its own, something it wasn't meant to do and it was putting serious stress on the bolts attaching the board to the "neck" that held it to the ceiling.

Directly beneath the score board stood Principal Kelly, who had managed to get to the podium during the brief pause between the two tremors and was using the podium as support.

Seeing the head of one of the bolts go flying and a gap appear underneath it on the score board, Ranma was immediately out of his seat.

At full speed, Ranma leaped forward, and tackled the unsteady head of the school, driving them both away from the center just as the score board fell.

With a thundering crash, the score board impacted with the podium, bringing complete silence to the Gym.

"Are you okay, sir?" Ranma asked as he got off the prone man.

"I'm fine," Kelly coughed, then looked at the wreck that remained of the podium. "Please, come to my office after school."

Ranma offered the man a hand in getting up, and helped dust off his back, before he was ushered away by the concerned staff. Ranma returned to his seat, but not before offering the seismic rebel a nasty scowl. Because of him, an innocent, defenseless person almost got killed. Ranma would not forget it.

The girl in front of the rebel seemed to know what the boy had done, and turned around to say a few angry words. What they were, Ranma would never know.

"Since when is Bayville at a Fault Line?" asked Principal Kelly loudly in an attempt at lightening the mood.

It worked, and all the students were giggling or chuckling from the joke.

"Anyway," Kelly continued, seeing that he had broken the proverbial ice. "I want to welcome you all to a new semester. I know that filling the vacuum left by your previous Principal, Ms Darkholme, will not be an easy job. But it is a challenge to which I am looking forward. And that brings me to what I hope will be the theme of this coming semester: Meeting new challenges.

"You know, most of us go through life thinking we're not so different from the people around us, and that's a mistake because I'll wager every one of us here has some unique talents," as he said this, Principal Kelly glanced at Ranma with a subtle smile. "Some special gifts, some abilities that makes us stand out from the crowd. However, that being said, I want your second priority to be; _supporting the Girls' Soccer Team for the Championship_!"

Cheers broke out among the students in support of the declaration.

"And that means I want every one of you to turn out tonight for the big Pregame Rally!" Kelly continued yelling over the crowd. "_Can we count on you_?"

If the cheering of the students was any indication, they were willing to be counted on.

* * *

The remainder of the school day was boring, and worst of all because Ranma was a new student along with Risty, the two of them were the ones asked questions by the teachers so they could know where the two were in knowledge.

That meant Ranma couldn't sleep through his classes!

And to top it all off, he had to _read_ while the teachers spoke. Though he may have more or less mastered understandable if somewhat stiff spoken English, written English was harder to grasp, which meant that Ranma lagged behind in reading. He should really develop his speed to reading as well. At least then he wouldn't look like an idiot. The idea was worth exploring.

Risty had wanted to bring Ranma along with her and Rogue to get better acquainted, but as he had to see Principal Kelly and didn't feel like sitting in the midst of _girl-talk_ with the risk of being turned into a girl with a stray application of cold water. They would only get upset in some way if they found out about the curse in such a manner. With any luck, Ranma would be fast friends with them before he had to reveal the existence of the curse.

Finding himself in the secretary's office again, Ranma prepared for the frosty glares she had given him so far, but was surprised when it looked like she was restraining herself from jumping over her desk and smother him in hugs and kisses.

"Principal Kelly, Mr Saotome is here," she announced into the intercom.

"**Send him in,"** was the almost immediate response.

Ranma heard, and nodded his thanks to the woman before entering the Principal's office. He made sure to close the door behind him.

"Does that woman have some kind of _bipolar disorder_?" he couldn't help but ask. "This morning, she was ready to bite my head off, and now she looked like she wanted to kiss me!"

"No, Mr Saotome," Kelly chuckled and swiveled his comfortable office chair around to face him. "This morning, she believed you to be a hooligan, a trouble-maker due to your record and current place of residence. After the stunt you pulled today, she has gotten second thoughts that took her opinion of you in the opposite direction."

"Women …" Ranma muttered. He'd never understand them, even if he turned into one.

"Indeed," Kelly agreed. "But your action today _is_ the reason I've called you in. I wish to make it clear that while I find your selflessness admirable, while you are in school you are the responsibility of the school. Had you gotten injured doing what you did, the school would be in a tough spot. The County would question our safety, the State would pull back funding from after-school activities in order to forward campaigns for better Schools, and Bayville High would never see any of that, which would mean that safety would actually _decrease_, which would make student injuries more probable. Can you see where I'm going with this?"

"I am to be more careful," Ranma deducted. "Or I could inadvertently lead the school into a downward spiral that would lead to its closure and the students being transferred to other schools."

"Exactly," Kelly confirmed. "Now, _had_ you gotten injured in your heroics, I would have been forced to write it down as a Sports related injury, as it took place in the Gym. The school isn't as liable for those, because in sports accidents happen. I'm not very good at gratitude, Mr Saotome, but know that while your actions will not be forgotten, it will not buy you leniency if you should get into trouble, understood?"

"Absolutely, sir," Ranma agreed. "And you're welcome."

* * *

As Ranma was leaving, he saw his housemates sitting in the jeep that had been outside the Boarding House. The rebel was leaning on the outside, striking up a conversation with the girl he had been speaking with during assembly.

She did not look happy, and when the rebel grabbed her arm as she was about to leave, Ranma was about to step in.

But then her arm passed through the rebel's grip, like a ghost.

This fascinated Ranma. How was she able to do that? Could she teach him?

Before he could approach her and ask, another boy came up to them. This one wore a blue wool sweater, and had a pair of red sunglasses over his eyes.

Though he couldn't tell what was being said, Ranma could feel great, uncontrolled energy washing off the new boy, and as he lifted his shades slightly, Ranma could see a red glow behind them.

What was this, a school for mutants?

The rebel pushed the boy, and tried to provoke him into starting something. Apparently being humiliated by Ranma had made him want to prove his manliness by fighting.

Before the boy could respond in the desired way, the girl ran up to him and managed to calm him down enough not to do so, also indicating the students watching from afar, which Ranma was a part of.

As the boy and girl walked off Ranma's housemates laughed at the apparent cowardice of the boy. Ranma knew, though he hardly ever practiced that knowledge, that it was more courageous to walk away than fighting. After all, exposing your back to an enemy is very dangerous.

When the two teens had left Ranma's housemates the group had managed to excite themselves into something, but what it was Ranma couldn't tell because he was too far away. However, he had a feeling it had either something to do with _him_, or the Rally that night.

Though he didn't really want to, Ranma knew he now had to attend the Rally, and keep an eye out for trouble. It wouldn't do to have more people associate him with them because he happened to share a house with them.

Looking around, Ranma noted that most students had already left, and so he came to the conclusion that he needed some food.

As he walked down the street, Ranma was focused on looking for a shop that looked reasonable enough, and thus missed that a fire hydrant that spontaneously sprung a leak as he passed.

Glaring at the red thing, Ranma flared her ki for a moment, instantly drying herself and her clothes.

This action was thankfully not within the visual spectrum, and no one had been looking when Ranma changed gender.

Grumbling about the injustice of it all, Ranma stepped into an alley and pulled a scroll of sealing from stuff space.

After a moment, Ranma stepped back onto the sidewalk, dressed in clothes better fitting her size and gender, fully supported and hating every moment of it.

* * *

"And playing Mid-Field for the Bayville Hawks … Terin Fujioka!"

Ranma was mildly interested. This Rally was a rather festive event. Cheerleaders doing cheers, and parading around in clothes that did little to hide their figures. Students cheering along with the cheerleaders, and calling out other slogans for the team. And the presentation of the soccer team.

Ranma idly wondered why this was one of the very few countries in the world that insisted on calling the game soccer, while most called it football.

Down along the bottom row of the bleachers Ranma spotted one of his new friends, Rogue, leaning on the railing. Behind her on the seats sat the girl who could pass through things, or at least fists.

Next to Rogue was a boy, dressed in a pale brown, short-sleeved shirt over a red sweater, and with brown pants. There was something strange about him that Ranma couldn't quite put his finger on, almost like he was lying to him, which of course was impossible as Ranma knew he had never been introduced to him, so there was no chance of him being deceptive already.

Next to the ghost-girl sat the boy with red shades.

A dark boy with a blonde head of hair and with a gray sweater that looked like it had a red vest over it came in from the sides, wheeling an old, bald man around in a wheelchair.

"-Star Forward … Jean Grey!" continued the announcer over the Public Announcement system.

It was amazing how much louder the crowd got each time a player's name was mentioned, Ranma mused as he slowly made his way towards the only person there he knew.

The entire crowd was cheering "Bayville! Bayville! Bayville!" over and over again, and as he came down to the lowest row, Ranma noticed a van with the number twenty-two painted on the side and a TV camera mounted on top of it, with a satellite dish behind it. It was amazing how much was done for a simple local High School sports event. Somewhere unseen a marching band was playing, but Ranma couldn't recognize the melody.

"Hi, Rogue!" Ranma tried to call, but was drowned out as the Principal, carrying a wireless microphone, walked onto the field to roaring applause.

"In appreciation of the Team Spirit that has brought us all the way to tonight's Championship Game, we'd like to present our School Mascot … The Bayville Hawk!" Kelly announced proudly.

At his waving his hand towards a score board on the side, the tarp hanging over something on it was pulled off, revealing a metal Hawk with its wings spread in flight. As if this sight was not magnificent enough, fire started spreading along its wings, making Ranma remember Saffron, the Phoenix God, because with the fiery wings it looked like a phoenix.

Fireworks shot into the air on either side of the hawk, and exploded in magnificent displays of sparkling colors.

"Now," continued Kelly. "Let the game begin!"

The crowd's noise died down a little, and the game did indeed commence.

Ranma didn't pay much attention to it, as he saw his chance.

"Hello, Rogue," Ranma called again. This time he was heard, as the girl in question turned and wondered for a brief moment before she recognized him.

"Hey, Ranma, right?" she greeted. Ranma nodded, and noticed the curious faces turned towards him. "Oh, where are my manners?" Rogue asked herself. "Ranma, Ah'd like you to meet Kurt Wagner, this is Kitty Pryde, that is Scott Summers, the guy behind the wheelchair is Evan Daniels, the guy in the wheelchair is Professor Charles Xavier, the founder and owner of the Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Guys, this is Ranma … Ah forgot your last name-"

"Hey!" Ranma looked to the commentator booth on the other side, where the sound had originated.

Standing on top of the booth, with the announcer's microphone, were Ranma's housemates, who were wearing silly costumes.

"Excuse me, folks," declared the rebel, though Ranma couldn't see him, he recognized the voice. "Hey! Can I have your attention up here?"

"Lance?" asked the girl called Kitty in a surprised tone.

"What's he up to?" wondered Scott aloud.

The search lights suddenly stopped their random movements and centered on the top of the booth.

"That's better," commented Lance, as he was apparently named. "My name's Lance, I also call myself Avalanche, because _I'm_ a _mutant_ … that's right, me and Toad, and Blob and Quicksilver, here … we're all mutants. We're different, what you might call _Freaks._"

"I can't believe he's doing this!" a distressed Kitty exclaimed.

"You see," continued Lance. "There's lots of Mutants at Bayville High … Scott Summers, over there, he's one, and so is Jean Grey! Your big Soccer Star! And most of their pals over at the Xavier's Institute, which is kind of a school for weirdo mutant _nerds_!"

"Man," commented Rogue, having forgotten about Ranma because of the commotion. "We're busted _big time_!"

"Now," continued Lance. "Being mutants means we've got these special powers, which we can use to make little … improvements. For instance; we thought the game would be more interesting if the goals were further apart!"

As he said this, Lance stretched out an arm and the stands started to shake violently in front of him. Along the middle of the field, a gap opened up in the ground and the players fell to the ground, a few even tumbled down the opening.

Thankfully, the girl named Jean Grey was quick enough to throw herself to the edge and grab hold of the girl that hadn't caught the edge with her hands, and helped pull her up.

"And we thought the Principal should have a little better _perspective_ on his student body!" continued Lance.

Suddenly, the Principal was surrounded in a blur that Ranma recognized from the night before when _he_ had been in that situation. Only this time, the man was ripped from the ground.

Next to him, Ranma noticed his friend and her housemates were picking up bags and making for secluded areas.

"Sorry, Professor X," Ranma heard Scott apologize. "But the Cat's out of the bag!"

Ranma wasn't about to let more people get hurt, so he jumped over the railing, and picked up loose rocks from the attack Lance had performed.

Having formed a sort of understanding with the Principal, Ranma chose to take care of him before moving on to the others, who were really doing no harm to people, but rather property. They were currently only scaring people with their aggressive activities, so they became second priority.

As he ran, Ranma threw some of the rocks after his white-haired housemate, who was caught by surprise, and ended his attack.

Principal Kelly fell to the ground and knocked himself out.

"So, you want to play with the Speed Demon, human?" the boy asked menacingly. "You caught me off guard last time! That won't happen again!"

And while the friends of the self-proclaimed 'Speed Demon' laughed at how badly injured Ranma would get during the coming battle, Ranma jumped the newly created gorge and dropped into a roll as soon as he hit the ground to dampen the landing, then rolled to his feet.

For the second time in as many days, Ranma found himself surrounded by the same, swift person. It seemed the boy had learned a little from their last encounter, and the distance between the two was beyond physical reach.

Throwing his rocks, Ranma was rewarded with seven hit out of twenty thrown rocks. It seemed the "Speed Demon" had picked up some speed since their last fight. This complicated things a little. Well, he couldn't risk throwing stuff at him anymore as a couple of his rocks had barely missed fleeing bystanders and anything more could do more damage than good.

There was only one technique he knew that would do, without standing the chance of suffocating while focusing on creating something tangible from chi or killing an innocent bystander should he miss. It was time to release the _dragon._

"So you're a coward," Ranma stated casually. Let the battle of egos begin.

Immediately, the blur stopped, and the white-haired kid stood before him, his silver-on-green bodysuit standing out from the panicking crowd behind him. "What did you call me?"

"I called you a coward," Ranma repeated. "Are you deaf, or just stupid?"

"I'm not a coward!" direct blow! And the kid's ego took heavy damage!

"Then why don't we settle this like _men_?" suggested Ranma, and got into a classical kung-fu ready stance. "Or are you a weak little girl as well as a coward?"

With an inarticulate roar, the boy lunged at Ranma with all his speed, forgetting to keep his distance.

Ranma didn't want to remind him just yet, and started dodging or blocking nearly every attack, while carefully leading the fight in an inward spiral. The few hits that _did_ get through were weak enough for him to ignore them. Though, he made a note to do some training to improve his speed so he would be able to keep up with this kid.

Keeping calm and collect despite being almost overwhelmed at the 'Speed Demon's' pace of attack, Ranma finally reached the middle of the spiral, and punched the air with a roaring yell.

"Hiryu Shoten Ha!"

The entire crowd, who had been panicking at that point, paused in awe as a tornado suddenly sprung to life in the field.

Loose debris was swept away with the strong winds, and the attention of those who had not passed out from fear of death followed the tornado to the top where they could see the body of an Asian dragon, its serpentine body bending and twisting, and its gaping maw pointing back towards the ground.

Inside the tornado, Ranma was struggling. Apparently, the kid was powerful enough to kill himself in this attack so Ranma had to use his own energy to stabilize the attack, and keep it from tearing his housemate apart and from running out of control and start sweeping in bystanders.

After a little while, the dragon spat out something green and silver which crashed into the commentator booth, knocking Lance off.

A fire had erupted on the Gym roof during the fight, but now the flames were almost put out by the strong winds sucking away their oxygen, even from nearly a hundred yards away.

Thunder roared, lightning flashed and the wind howled. Bayville High looked like it was in the middle of Ragnarok, and the people there felt like this was indeed the end of all mortal life.

Out of the base of the dragon tornado, Ranma staggered, his right sleeve torn mostly to pieces, and the winds died down.

Unfortunately for Ranma, this was also the time when the dark clouds brought rain that finished the job Ranma's wind started with the flames.

Looking at her now delicate hands, Ranma sighed. She had hoped it wouldn't come out this early.

Feeling exhausted after keeping the attack from ripping the white-haired kid to pieces, Ranma dropped to her knees and looked around to see what had happened since she initiated the attack against the 'Speed Demon'.

Wearing silly uniforms, were Rogue and her friends, and they were too busy staring at Ranma to do much. But, then, so were everyone else who hadn't fainted or gotten injured enough to lose consciousness.

"Sorry 'bout this," was all Ranma could say before taking a _spontaneous nap. _Saotome Ranma _never_ fainted.

* * *

Author's Notes: Simply to ruin it for those who didn't already know (If you don't want to hear some revelations about X-Men: Evolution, skip this part), Risty Wilde is really Mystique, as was Principal Raven Darkholme. No, Ranma will not end up with her in the final pairing.

Credits: Thanks to Lone Wolf for pointing out the proper usage of the terms Ki, Chi and Chakra, as well as similar expressions from various cultures, but as long as I'm not going to write a doctorial thesis on the matter, I don't think people in general would really mind or even care how the words are used, as long as a difference has been distinguished between them … I think … and thanks to birndani for pointing out some lacked details in Ranma's fight with Pietro.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation and weeded out unnecessary comments in the Notes.


	6. Book 2 Chapter 03 To be a Mutant, or Not

Posted: Saturday 07 April 2007

Re-posted: Wednesday 25 April 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Three – To be a Mutant, or Not to be One

* * *

-Knock!-Knock!-Knock!-

-Click-Squeeeak!-

"Is she awake yet?"

-Sniff!-

"She's commin' around, go get the others. I'll keep watch."

Ranma didn't know where she was, or even if she was in friendly company as she came to. For a moment she struggled to figure out what had happened, then remembered the Rally and how things had gotten out of hand. She had ended up expending most of her energy on stabilizing and controlling the surging vortex of air so it wouldn't kill the white-haired kid, or suck in innocent bystanders.

She had changed when she stumbled out of the wind into the rain, and passed out from exhaustion.

If she was in hostile company, then she had better try to get out-

-Snikt!-

"Don't even think about it, kid," commented the gruff voice that had told some girl to get someone.

Ranma cracked open an eye to see a stocky man, with as gruff an appearance as his voice indicated. There was a feral air about him, something untamed. But what surprised her was that a set of the melee weapon called Tiger Claws were sticking out from between the man's knuckles, from _inside_ his hand! Not between the fingers or over the back of the hand as the normal weapon would!

Reaching out, Ranma poked the closest blade, and was rewarded with a cut.

Those things were definitely coming out of the hand instead of between the man's fingers, and they were sharper than razors.

While sucking on her finger, Ranma examined the room, ignoring the armed man who had not posed a threat to her unless she got any ideas of leaving before she was allowed.

Already, she could feel the wound clot, so by the time the door opened again, only an angry scratch remained of the cut.

Entering the room was the old man in his wheelchair, Professor Xavier, and all the other teens Ranma had been introduced to at the Rally and some more, including a woman with white, flowing hair and dark skin.

"Good morning," greeted Professor Xavier. "As I'm sure you remember, I am Professor Xavier. You probably remember me and some of my students from last night. But let me introduce you to the rest. Behind me is Ororo Munro, also known a Storm." The woman with the white hair nodded to let Ranma know to whom the Professor was referring. "Next to her is her nephew, Evan Daniels, who you no doubt remember from last night's introduction. And behind him, we have Tabitha Smith, or Boom-Boom." The blonde girl nodded. "In the corner, we have Bobby Drake, also known as Iceman." The brown-haired boy raised a hand. "Next to him, we have Jubilation Lee, or Jubilee as most seem to call her." The long haired girl bowed slightly at the hip, trying to be more formal with a fellow Asian, even if by her looks she was not more than half Asian. "Then there's Sam Guthrie, Cannonball." The long haired boy winked at Ranma, clearly not having heard the full accounts of the previous night. "Rahne Sinclair, Wolfsbane." The girl with high double ponytails blew Ranma a kiss, confusing the long haired boy. The feral smell about the girl said that she had some kind of beast-side to her that might have picked up the lingering male pheromones that still existed on Ranma's skin. "Jamie Madrox, Multiple." A much younger kid than the others waved shyly at the introduction. "Roberto Da Costa, Sunspot." A dark-skinned boy mimicked Cannonball in winking. Ranma could barely suppress a shudder of disgust at the thought of guys hitting on her. "Ray Crisp, Berserker." A boy with blonde hair and orange spikes at the forehead nodded stiffly, clearly having better things to do than visit someone new. "Sitting next to your bed, is Logan, or Wolverine. And last but not least, we have Amara Juliana Olivia Aquilla, also known as Magma.

"We are all mutants, as you might have guessed.

"Now that we've gotten pas the introductions, let us continue. That was quite a show you put on last night, but I think you have some explaining to do, wouldn't you agree?"

Sighing in resignation, Ranma nodded.

"I'm Ranma Saotome," Ranma started. "I'm a Martial Artist, trained from I could walk to be the best, and I'm really a _guy_, despite my current appearance. This is the result of a curse-"

"Child," interrupted the woman, Ororo, sternly, ignoring the two guys who were looking very green as they realized they had flirted with a guy. "Being a mutant is _not_ a curse."

"I'm not a mutant," Ranma snapped. "This form _is_ a curse, I got it from falling into a Cursed Spring in China during my training trip."

"The kid ain't lyin' Chuck," commented the gruff man, Logan, from the side after a few sniffs. "I don't know how it's possible, but it's the truth, every word of it."

"Then how did the change of gender come about?" asked Professor Xavier.

"I change when I get splashed with water," Ranma explained. "Cold water changes me into this, warm water changes me back …"

"I'm not buying it," stated Scott. "There's no way a normal human can change genders, or create a tornado."

"I'm not a mutant!" Ranma protested.

"I say you are," argued Scott.

For a moment, the two glared silently at each other.

"There is a way to settle this dispute," interrupted Professor Xavier. "But it will require some blood."

"If it will prove to red-eye here that I'm right, by all means, take as much as you want!" Ranma agreed, even going as far as to offer up her arm.

"A drop or two should suffice," Professor Xavier corrected. "But this is not the proper place to do such things. We have an infirmary a few doors down the hall, are you well enough to walk or do you require assistance? We have a spare wheelchair or two."

"I'll manage," Ranma deadpanned. It wasn't like she was injured. She had just exhausted herself but was mostly rejuvenated in that regard by now.

Swinging off the bed, Ranma found her shoes there, and slipped into them easily, and with grace that could envy a ballerina.

"While you run the test," started Ranma as she made sure her laces were tied up well enough. "Could someone get me some warm water? It doesn't have to be boiling, just about a third of fourth of the way to boiling should do. If you see steam, it's enough."

"Of course," agreed Professor X. "I'm sure Kurt would be more than happy to run that errand for you."

"Ah man," the German teenage mutant groaned, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

"Nice blades, by the way," Ranma commented at Logan as she followed the Professor out of the room. "Where did you get them?"

"You don't wanna know, kid," the man answered, retracting the claws into his arm with the sound of metal sliding against metal.

"So, is that your mutant ability?" asked Ranma conversationally. After all, this seemed to be the only one with serious training under his belt, and having someone with the potential to teach her a thing or two was always a good thing, so she might as well try to keep civil with him.

"Nah," the gruff man objected. "I can heal most damage very quickly … someone _gave_ me the claws."

"You seem like you know how to fight," Ranma commented, forgoing any subtlety. "Maybe we can spar some time …"

"We'll see," Logan grunted.

"Why didn't anyone think of taking me home?" asked Ranma in general, being satisfied with the almost-promise of a sparring match.

"We don't know where you live," answered Kitty. "Or if your Host Family knows what you are. We didn't want to walk in on them with a girl they didn't know, claiming you were the boy they keep."

"Oh," Ranma realized. "I was assigned to live at the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House."

Almost instantly, the entire group halted in surprise.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"You're part of the _Brotherhood_?" asked Scott menacingly.

"Calm down, Scott," interrupted Professor Xavier. "If she is indeed part of the Brotherhood, she wouldn't have fought against them. Nor would she admit to living there when she would know that they aren't on the friendliest terms with us."

"I'm not on friendly terms with them, either," Ranma sympathized. "I had to beat the crap out of them when I first got there just to get inside. Maybe I should have written something offensive on their foreheads instead of warning them not to mess with me …"

"That was you?" asked Jean. "The other students made fun of them all day because of those bruises. If looks could kill, Bayville High would have been leveled and dropped into an abyss with all the students inside!"

"I'm surprised they didn't try to return the favor in your sleep, man," commented the one called Evan.

"Heh, I'm not the best for nothing, you know," Ranma boasted. "Besides, Pops trained me to be able to dodge attacks even in my sleep. That probably saved my life on a few occasions."

"No offense, but you don't _look_ like you're the _best_," commented Jean.

"I believe the expression is "Don't judge a book by its cover," right?" asked Ranma, hoping she hadn't fouled up like that annoying blonde in that Sentai Anime show about guardians of love and justice had a habit of doing. Seeing nods to the affirmative, Ranma continued. "As I already told you, I was trained since I could walk, and in several insane methods as well."

"Here we are," interrupted Professor Xavier. "Ms Saotome, if you'd please take a seat, I'll get the sterile needle and petri dish ready."

"You know, I'm still a guy," Ranma objected as she took a seat. "No matter what it looks like."

-Pamph!-

"I got de warm water," announced the suddenly appearing Kurt, his German accent not as heavy as most Germans trying to speak English.

"Great!" Ranma exclaimed and grabbed the glass before anyone could speak, upending it over her head.

The change was instantaneous but still fascinating to watch, as Ranma grew half a foot in height and gained some more muscles than were visible in female form. But the more interesting change was to see the red head of hair turn black, as though ink was being washed over it.

"Ah, it's good to be back to normal," Ranma commented in a relieved sigh.

"Mr Saotome," interrupted Professor Xavier. "Your hand, if you'd please … and this might sting a little."

As Ranma extended his hand, the Professor accepted it, and jabbed the needle into a finger before squeezing it a little so some drops fell into the cylindrical glass dish.

As much as Ranma didn't want to admit it, this did sting a little. However, he managed to hide it behind a mask of bravado as the Professor applied a drop of disinfectant on the prick and placed a sterile cotton swab on it to stem the blood. A nearly unnoticeable wince came through, but it was enough for Scott to see, and smirk at.

"Ororo, would you be so kind as to place this in the machine?" asked Professor Xavier.

The white-haired woman accepted the petri dish, and did as asked, letting Ranma know her name.

"Oops!" Ranma heard from the door, and saw the kid in a red sweater, Jamie, fall to the ground, and suddenly there were five of him.

"Cool," was all Ranma could say. "Could you do that again?"

The kid went from sheepish embarrassment to eagerness, and merged back together before splitting up again.

Ranma concentrated hard on seeing not only the physical changes, but also the internal ones … it would seem he now had found the secret behind making the Kage Bunshin No Jutsu work!

"Let me try!" Ranma exclaimed in excitement after asking Jamie to repeat himself a few more times, and started concentrating, hands in a semblance of the Ram seal, ignoring the comment Scott made about it being _Jamie's_ power to clone himself, and not something anyone could cop-

-Poof!-

Looking beside himself, Ranma saw a rather sickly copy of himself that only had enough time to gasp in pain before disappearing in another puff of smoke.

"Still needs some practice …" Ranma commented, rubbing his head as a slight headache suddenly appeared. Oh well, he could do it somewhere else. He didn't like having witnesses when he perfected his new techniques.

"How did you do that?" demanded Scott.

"I'm the best," Ranma repeated. "Energy manipulation is a field I've gotten into over the last year. I'm not a Master, but I'm getting there. Besides, I've been working on trying to make clones for weeks, and now that I saw it in action, I was able to more or less figure out how to do it myself."

"Is it possible that his mutation is a variation of Rogue's power?" Scott asked Professor Xavier. "That he can copy another mutant ability he has seen?"

"I'm not a mutant!" Ranma objected.

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"It would appear that Mr Saotome indeed does possess the mutant gene," interrupted Professor Xavier, who was reading the monitor of the machine.

"Hah!" Scott declared triumphantly, rubbing it in. "I _knew_ it!"

"However," continued the Professor. "It has not yet activated … what he has done is indeed _pure skill_."

"Hah!" Ranma mimicked Scott. "I told you!"

"You are begging to be blasted through the wall," Scott threatened and reached for his shades.

"Scott, please refrain from doing that, the repair costs aren't cheap, you know," Professor Xavier chastised. "Mr Saotome, if you should want it, we still have room for you if you'd like it. Though you aren't a mutant in need of training, you are still _special_ …"

"I'm happy where I am," Ranma replied. "If that changes, I might take you up on your offer."

The Professor nodded in understanding.

"Children," he started. "Would you leave us alone with Mr Saotome, please? There is something I would like to speak with him about."

"But, Professor," Scott tried to protest.

"Child," Ororo said in a stern tone. "Do as the Professor said. He knows what he is getting into."

Some muttered protests later, the children had left the infirmary, leaving Ranma behind with Ororo, Professor Xavier, and Logan.

"Now that you've been told that you have the mutant gene, there are a few things you should be made aware of," Professor Xavier started. "First, the possibility of your gene activating is very random. It could happen within the next moment, it could be a year or two from now or it could never happen. We only know that the mutant gene activates in teenagers, usually during moments of great duress. That isn't to say that you'll become an active mutant if someone walks around a corner and startles you. But if your gene activates, it is almost certain that normal humans will fear you, and even treat you unfairly because of it. Some may be understanding, after all this isn't something any of us chose to become. Be careful to whom you reveal your gift if it awakens, because you may be betrayed.

"That being said, I would appreciate it if you kept from revealing the existence of mutants until it is absolutely unavoidable," Professor Xavier cautioned.

Ranma was a little confused at this point.

"But hasn't that already gotten out?" he asked. "I mean, "The Brotherhood" made sure of that. And there was a TV news van parked along the field, the whole world should know by now and probably think I'm part of it."

"Not quite," corrected Professor Xavier. "Mere seconds before the van could broadcast, there were magnetic disturbances that rendered the station inoperable. And eye-witnesses believe the destruction to be caused by the fireworks arranged for the Rally."

"How is _that_ possible?"

"This is a school for mutants, you know," grunted Logan. "Chuck here managed to _convince_ them all that the fireworks misfired and caused the damage. Another mutant called Magneto most likely had a hand in the magnetic disturbances."

"And it turned out that it was a good thing that so many witnesses were knocked unconscious," added Ororo. "Charles lost consciousness from the effort. Had any more been awake there is a chance he would have died in the attempt."

"I see," Ranma hummed, not really grasping all of it because he had gotten so many new facts in so short a time. But he felt it best not to make them feel like they had to repeat themselves.

"There is something that disturbs me, though," added Professor Xavier. "While you were unconscious, I was unable to touch your mind, Mr Saotome. When I even got close, something _lashed out_ at me …"

"You tried to get into my head?" asked Ranma in a growl. No one had the right to invade his privacy in that manner.

"Only to determine where you lived and if the battle had left any permanent harm," Professor Xavier assured.

Still not happy about the fact, Ranma dropped it. There were more important things to think about.

"Forget about it," he voiced. "I'm not one to carry a grudge, those have a tendency of festering into hate, which can cloud the mind and senses, and lose battles. But could you tell me if you know what my "Mutant ability" will be? So I know what to look for."

"To be quite honest, I have no idea," Professor Xavier confessed. "Though I can look within the mind of most people, and to some degree change them, I am not capable of seeing the future."

"That's okay," sighed Ranma. "I feel like a work-out after all this. Do you have a place I can train?"

"Logan," the Professor smiled conspiratorially. "Would you mind showing young Mr Saotome to the Danger Room?"

* * *

"This is so cool!"

Ranma was having the time of his life.

All around him were masked ninja of the cliché type, and they were attacking him in numbers varying from single ones to four, using all sorts of assassination tool a ninja was known to have used.

"You had enough, kid?" asked a gruff voice over the ear-piece Ranma had been given upon entering the Danger Room.

"Are you kidding?" Ranma asked in return. "If I get to do this every time I visit, I'll be here at least three times a week, if not more!"

"How about I step things up a little?"

"Do it!"

"You got it," chuckled Logan, and the sound of buttons being pressed could be heard in the background.

Ranma's surroundings and opponents melted away, and were replaced by what looked like an old Japanese town, complete with a mansion on the top of a hill in the distance.

"Right, kid," Logan started. "This is an infiltration mission. You are to retrieve a scroll containing vital information from inside the mansion of the feudal lord, and avoid capture. Be careful, ninja will also be on patrol and there may be traps. You have ten minutes … GO!"

Jumping to the rooftops in a series of triangle hops, Ranma broke into a run towards the mansion.

Already after the first rooftop, Ranma encountered his first problem; a loose tile on the roof that made noise when he stepped on it.

Without even thinking, Ranma used one of his father's sealed techniques, and faded from sight just in time to avoid being seen by a patrol of ninja that emerged from behind camouflage sheets that perfectly blended with the background or from behind walls.

Still hidden, Ranma continued his dash across the rooftops until he got to the walls surrounding the compound.

There was a wide, open area between the nearest buildings and the wall, most likely to give the patrolling guards time to spot anyone approaching and sound the alarm if they looked hostile. Too bad they didn't know Ranma, as he bunched up his legs, and with a burst of chi through them, launched himself clear of the wall, and into a tree on the other side. The "super" jump was inspired by Herb's seeming flight. He basically used energy to propel himself like a bullet from a gun, and it worked for the most part. It wasn't even close enough to keep him in the air, but instead to launch him off. Landings could be a problem as well if he misjudged distances or structural integrity of his targeted landing zone.

Instantly, dogs started baying and guards started moving.

Ranma cursed as he realized that he had dropped his technique upon landing and repeated his super jump from the tree aiming for the main building. He managed to catch on the ledge of the lower part of the roof.

In the courtyard below him, Ranma saw dogs running for his position, and flipped up with a kick to the wall, landing perfectly.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!" jabbing his finger into the wall, Ranma blasted away a large section of the wall and entered a room filled more or less with armored guards wielding blades of all sorts, ranging from naginata, katana and kodachi to sai, spears and yari. "Kinshi Kinbaku Sho!"

Rope Ranma had carried in stuff space flared out of his remaining sleeve, and bound half the guards so their arms were stuck to their sides. Ranma deliberately kept from using the deadly technique to its fullest capacity, and instead of killing them incapacitated them.

The other half didn't have time to cut their comrades loose, as Ranma blurred out of sight and started knocking his opponents around. Though his speed didn't match his Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken or even the 'Speed Demon' he was very fast, and this made it difficult for the guards to defend themselves, so those further away from where Ranma started began calling for help and reinforcements, until Ranma knocked them out.

Panting, Ranma took a moment to restore a portion of his reserves.

When he returned to the present, the sound of a bell chiming deeply across the courtyard was heard, and the approaching battle cries of more guards told Ranma to get a move on.

Concentrating, Ranma made one more attempt at his newly acquired technique, letting himself channel more energy than he had the last time before performing the technique silently.

-Poof!-

Smirking as he saw a near-perfect copy of himself standing there, it was still a little pale but otherwise in excellent health, Ranma nodded to it before continuing through the door, running down the hall and leaping up, forcing his hands and feet against opposite walls along the ceiling, locking him in place among the shadows.

A little down the hall, the clone exited just in time for the guards to arrive, and a battle was almost inevitable.

The clone, however, did not do that. It stuck out its tongue at them, pulled down an eye lid and ran back into the room where it jumped out the newly created window and onto the roof.

The guards followed, screaming in outrage at the audacity of the obscene gesture shown to them.

Once the last guard had left the hallway, Ranma dropped to the floor and grinned in triumph. Not bad for a second try. Maybe with more practice and refining, he would be able to make more clones and spend less energy creating them.

Continuing down the hallway he was in, Ranma checked each room before entering, and looking for the documents.

He was in his fourth room when he stumbled and grasped his head.

"Arg!" he growled in pain. It felt like someone was trying to cram a car inside his head. He suddenly got the sensation of having been the one to run out with guards on his heels, leaping around and evading attacks, then a piercing pain through his stomach. "Ugh … so that's how it feels to get skewered by an arrow," he muttered. "At least I didn't scream, or vomit."

He now had to hurry even more, because no doubt his clone had dissolved into smoke, and guards would be on the lookout for him again.

Stumbling out and into the next room, Ranma barely managed to roll out of the way as a section of the ceiling came crashing down, spikes protruding all over it. Had he been under it, he would no doubt have gotten flattened and skewered at the same time.

A maniacal laugher filled the room, and thick steel bars lowered from all around the room, barring all entrances and exits to the room but one, where a door was made in the bars.

"You thought you had succeeded in your scheme to get our invasion plans, spy!" laughed the deep voice. "Since you fancy yourself a stalking predator, I have arranged for you to meet an ironic end … by another predator!"

The sound of grating steel tore Ranma's attention from trying to find the origin of the voice, to see the door open, and a notorious predator stalked inside.

It reached Ranma's chest at its shoulder, had four legs and a long tail. Reddish fur with black stripes and a white belly was its colors, strong claws adorned all four of its feet, and razor sharp teeth filled its powerful mouth.

It was a tiger, and the manner it stalked the side of the room indicated that it hadn't been fed in a while.

Had this been three months earlier, Ranma would have started to panic about that time, but after mastering the Neko-Ken, Ranma held no fear of anything feline any longer. In fact, _they_ held a greater fear for him than he did for them. True, he still didn't like the creatures and wouldn't trust one enough to drop his guard around it, but there was no fear left for them in him.

Crouching down in a classic tiger stance, Ranma growled, and grinned a feral grin at the feline as it reacted to this by backing itself into a corner and executing something similar to what Genma had taught him to do in a desperate situation; the Crouch of the Wild Tiger!

Making sure never to turn his back to the beast, Ranma stood back up.

Tearing off a strip from his already ruined sleeve, Ranma straightened it and slashed twice in opposing diagonal angles, then watched as the cloth cut through the wall from where the tiger had entered.

The steel bars fell to the ground in a clatter, and Ranma gave the wall a good kick to separate the still connected parts of the wall, creating an independent door.

Ranma didn't expect to find the documents he was searching for in the small room on the other side, but he repeated his attack and cut through another wall on the other side, which he punched through, emerging in a room where two geisha were sitting, one playing her instrument, and the other pouring sake in a cup for Ranma, seemingly not the slightest bit surprised or disturbed at his violent entrance.

Ignoring the women, Ranma went to the nearest door, and broke it open with applied pressure from his shoulder and weight. On the other side of this door, stood a man that Ranma could only describe as scrawny, and frightened beyond reason.

"S-stay away!" the man ordered. It took Ranma a moment, but he recognized the voice as the one that spoke to him earlier. The previous safety and confidence had been broken, leaving this husk of a man behind.

Behind the man was a shelf with dozens of pigeon holes filled with scrolls.

Ranma smirked and stepped closer. The man took a step back.

This was repeated until the man's back was against the wall and he could retreat no further.

"Give me the documents I seek," Ranma commanded with a self-sure grin. Sure, he wasn't about to harm the wimpy man, but he didn't need to know that.

The smirk that suddenly grew on the man's face told Ranma that something was wrong, and he had just enough time to cover the back of his shirt in the Iron Cloth technique, which deflected most of the hail of shuriken and kunai aimed at him. One shuriken barely grazed his arm, and struck the wooden structure which the wimpy man was up against, causing him to faint.

The injury was nothing serious … it would probably heal faster than the cut he got on his finger when checking Logan's blades, so he could safely ignore it.

As he ended the technique, Ranma saw several ninja, ready for battle.

"You just added them to make things difficult for me, didn't you?" Ranma asked Logan through the mike in the ear-piece.

"You were having too easy a time," Logan admitted. "I thought I'd throw in a few wrenches in the works."

"We'll see," Ranma smirked. "Kashu Tenshin Amaguriken!"

In barely an instant, all the pigeon holes had been emptied, and Ranma smirked at no one before fading from view again.

The ninja in the doorway had nothing to prepare them for some invisible force bowling them over.

"Twenty seconds," Logan announced over the communications device and started counting down.

Ranma gritted his teeth and ran as fast as he could, increasing his speed by pumping ki through his muscles.

"Ten."

Ignoring the obstacles that came in the form of guards, Ranma jumped and ran from head to head before he was back outside through an open window.

"Five."

Leaping with all his might from the roof, Ranma managed to shoot over the courtyard, wall and clear perimeter outside, and land on the rooftop he had launched himself from on the way in, causing the ceramic to explode around him from the impact.

"One … time's up, kid … you didn't make it."

"Kuso!" Ranma swore and tossed the armfuls of scrolls around him in frustration.

The town around him melted away to reveal the bare metal room as it truly was, but several pieces of metal were strewn around, and a few cuts adorned the walls where shrapnel had impacted.

Stumbling from exhaustion, Ranma sat down and started meditating to restore his energy before he took another spontaneous nap.

"You okay?" asked Logan through the ear-piece.

"I'm fine, just give me a minute to catch my breath," Ranma replied, trying not to lose focus and cursing his father for having thought meditation a waste of time. Concentration was difficult to attain with distractions, ss he was relatively new to it. The teachings of the priest that taught him helped some, though.

"Good, I'd hate to think of what Scott would say if you managed to wear yourself out twice within twenty-four hours …"

This broke Ranma out of his meditation, and made him look up to see those teenagers he had been introduced to at the Rally the previous night, wearing the uniforms they had when he passed ou- er- took a nap. They were clearly impressed with what they had seen.

"That was a good workout!" Ranma added, to seem less exhausted than he was. "It's about time I return home, but next time, it should be more challenging!"

"Before you leave, I have a proposition for you, kid," said Logan over the speaker. "I'll meet you outside the Danger Room."

"Sure thing!"

As several arms extended from the wall and started cleaning up the mess he had made, Ranma did his best to appear refreshed and not at all bit tired, and so he walked out of the room in a confident strut, and leaned casually against the wall.

He didn't slump again when the doors closed, because he could feel several people approaching, which meant there was a possibility that the other kids were about to use the Danger Room.

"Kid," called Logan as he rounded the corner of the hall. What surprised Ranma, was that he spoke in Japanese. "I have a proposition for you."

"Who is getting Khaki pants?" asked Kurt confusedly as the group of teens passed, evidently having heard what Logan called Ranma and jumped to the closest words he could interpret out of it.

"What is this proposition?" asked Ranma curiously, following Logan's lead of speaking in Japanese. "It's not anything … _weird_ is it? 'Cause no matter what my girl form looks like, I like girls, not guys."

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid," Logan chuckled. "You seem like you're good at breaking into places. Can you also do it without announcing your presence?"

"Okay, vhy are dey speaking in Japanese?" asked Kurt as he waited for Scott to open the doors to the Danger Room. "Do dey not know it's rude to speak in languages odhers can't understand?"

"You want me to steal something?" asked Ranma suspiciously, narrowing his eyes to show displeasure at the proposition so far.

"Somethin' like that," Logan confirmed. "I keep tellin' Chuck that we need to increase security around this place, but he isn't doing enough to keep up with my suggestions. I was thinkin' along the lines of hiring you to check security once or twice a week, and note down where improvements are needed. Of course, to prove that you've succeeded in your job you'd have to bring back a select item to Chuck's office along with the notes of our flaws. What d' you say, kid? Up for it?"

Though this offer seemed legitimate, Ranma was still bothered by having to use some of the less honest skills his father had taught him over the years.

"Does Professor Xavier know about this?" he asked.

"Heh, he wouldn't have let me offer the job to you if he disagreed," chuckled Logan. "He _is _one of the world's most powerful telepaths, you know, and he has been _briefed_ on my suggestion."

"How much do you offer?"

"Somewhere around three hundred dollars per mission. The highest would be four hundred, but then your missions would be reduced from twice a week to three times over fourteen days."

"Including or excluding expenses?"

"If the expenses are within reason, they will be added to your pay."

"May I speak with Professor Xavier about this before I agree?"

Logan smirked. "I like you, kid. You're not afraid to make demands. I'll take you to him."

* * *

Author's Notes: My muse has been wounded! Call a Medic!

Please remember that Ranma has a tendency to brag of his skills, so don't take _his_ or _her_ word for being the best. And Ranma rolling out of harm's way when Ryoga tried to cave in his face in the beginning of the series couldn't be pure luck or coincidence, because normal people don't move that much in such a short span of time unless they have nightmares, which Ranma didn't have. Besides, training to avoid nightly attacks sounds like something Genma would put his son through, Neko-Ken taken into consideration.

Don't say Ranma hasn't learned Ryoga's technique. The boy has used it plenty of times around Ranma, so he was bound to pick it up sooner or later. The way I understood it, the Breaking Point Technique works on inanimate objects. A wall is composed of long-dead wood, which qualifies as inanimate. Before I get any flak about Ranma using the Sealed techniques, I'd like to say that those he used weren't all that destructive or dangerous. In the original version of this chapter, Ranma used plenty more, far more lethal techniques from the sealed ones but I replaced them with other, more credible techniques.

And I am rather lazy about some things, so I didn't want to put in any special way to tell what language was being spoken, choosing instead to indicate it with a notice that certain people will at certain times speak Japanese without it being "translated". The Kaki comment was because as far as I know, Kid/Brat is translated into Gaki, and to the untrained or unprepared ear, it could sound like Kaki … lame, but hey, I can't speak Japanese.

Finally, I have posted another "Note" in my profile detailing the future of this story. Be sure to read it, but don't complain to me later if you didn't.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation. I feel like reaching back through time and bop my head for using so many ellipses. Takes me over an hour to correct each chapter. Grr.


	7. Book 2 Chapter 04 Prejudice

Posted: Monday 28 May 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Four – Prejudice

* * *

Upon returning to the Boarding House, Ranma luckily didn't find his housemates. However, upon reaching his room he found evidence of attempts of forced entry on the door. Or rather, he found the evidence at the ground in front of the door.

Strewn around the door were several metal pieces, no doubt used to try and pry the door open. And the wall directly opposite the door, like the floor, sported dents and scratches where feet had tried to gain momentum and purchase to force the door open. Shaving foam was even found along the floor, evidence of an attempted act of vandalism to the door. Or a message, whatever it was it wouldn't stick.

Smirking at the frustration they must have felt, Ranma entered his room unhindered and closed the door behind him.

Nothing was changed or moved inside, so Ranma was now certain that his housemates hadn't managed to gain entry.

Feeling that a shower and change of clothing was in order, Ranma set about doing just that. The problem was that there wasn't any hot water left.

This in itself wasn't so bad, had it not been for Ranma being his bold self and having jumped into the streaming water without first checking for steam or heat, so now she was her annoyed self. This must have been the only revenge those idiots could come up with for having sided with someone other than them, and for annoying them all.

Finishing the cold shower, Ranma dressed, and exited her room. She didn't have anything to heat a kettle on in her room, and though the floor was indestructible, more or less, the smoke produced from a fire would not have many places to go, so that was not an option. That left the undesirable option of warming the water she needed in the kitchen.

The house seemed empty, so there wasn't anyone there to prevent Ranma from using the stove and water was accessible from the tap over the kitchen sink.

As the old saying goes; a watched pot never boils. Well the same could be said for kettles, and before the water had gotten very warm the front door opened, and admitted the four housemates that had been missing.

"I still say he has to be a mutant, yo," commented the sickly one that jumped around like a frog. "There ain't no way he could do all that an' not be a mutant!"

"I don't care," added the 'Speed Demon' crossly. "That bastard humiliated me in front of the entire school and those X-Freaks! When I get my hands on him, he'll wish he'd never been born!"

As they came into view of the kitchen, they couldn't help but notice the redhead staring at the kettle.

"Hey, who are you?" asked the big, lumbering boy grumpily. "What are you doin' in our house?"

"Don't mind him," interrupted Quicksilver smoothly and approached Ranma in what he guessed was a suave manner. "Blob doesn't understand free spirits such as us. So, does a lovely girl such as yourself have a name?"

Ranma looked away from the kettle to see the boy wriggle his eyebrows arrogantly, while the sickly, crouching boy stood up and slicked his hair back. The four of them looked disheveled, but the 'Speed Demon' more so than the others. Several band-aids and scratches decorated what skin he had visible

"I thought I already introduced myself the day before yesterday," Ranma commented and returned to watching the kettle. "But since you seem to be dim-witted enough not to remember, I'm Ranma."

"Ain't that the name of the guy?" asked the greenish boy confusedly. "The one that cleaned your clock, Pietro? Twice."

"I didn't see you do any better!" snapped Pietro. Calming down, he turned back to Ranma. "You don't look like that _cheater_ at all. How did you come by such an unusual name?"

"Because that was me," Ranma elaborated with clenched teeth. "And I didn't cheat! I won fair and square!"

"But you're a girl," Pietro protested. "A hot one at that!"

"I'm still me!" Ranma snapped. Finally seeing a wisp of steam emerging from the kettle, she upended its content over her head.

The transformation was instant, as was the change in expressions on the faces of the Brotherhood. Where they had been confused, and attracted to Ranma before the transformation now most of them were repulsed at their previous desire, and hurried to the sink where they competed over dry heaving and gagging.

The only one not repulsed, was the big one, who scratched his head in confusion.

"Mystique?" he asked cautiously.

"Who is this Mystique person?" asked Ranma, annoyed. He had heard that name a couple of times, once in connection with Principal Darkholme leading him to believe that one of them was an alias, but which was the alias, and why did this fat oaf address him as that person?

When no one answered, being either too busy gagging, washing their mouth with soap or staring at him dumbly, Ranma huffed and grabbed his kettle.

"Fine, I don't _need_ to know!" he snapped and returned to his room. He had nothing he needed to do, so he might as well spend the time researching for his seals

* * *

-Pouff!-

"Damn it," sighed Ranma and looked at the spot where his clone had just disappeared from. He had gotten a mild headache from the information forcing its way into his brain once the clone dispelled, but at least he had done better than his first few times.

School would start within the hour, and he had spent the rest of the weekend after waking up at the Mansion training and researching. During that weekend, Ranma had tested his theory concerning the damaging effects on the human body when they faced his Chi weapons. It hadn't pretty and it didn't feel all that good to be slashed to bits, pierced through the heart or losing limbs. Thankfully, head shots of any kind with chi weapons were instantaneous kills. No pain was felt as the pain receptors on the outside of the head didn't have time to send a signal to the brain before it lost power and died.

It was after the third dispelled clone that Ranma realized with great disappointment that it would be impossible to use the clone technique in an actual fight until he could either delay the rush of information, or at least stem the flow enough to not hurt. Until such time, he could not try making more clones than one as the multiple incoming memories would likely knock him out. This was simply not practical, as it would leave openings a mile wide for the opponent he might be fighting. Thankfully, the brain had a way of filtering out useless information so anything he had gotten several times would fade away as separate experiences, leaving only the one mixed with the others to form a more complete image.

His housemates had left his door alone, if for no other reason than their lack of success in doing anything to it, and they had yet to clean up their mess in the hallway. This wasn't really all that surprising considering the state of the rest of the house.

Deciding that he had done enough for the morning exercise, Ranma ended the training and started strolling to school. It was a nice morning for a walk, after all.

Along the way, he had to avoid a few big puddles, and was luckily not splashed.

Apart from the sports field and gym being roped off because of the damages done to them and curious students were gathering around the edge of the ropes, each telling the others what they remembered of the events that had transpired, nothing indicated that anyone knew of mutants or that they associated him with them.

It was truly masterfully done, Ranma noticed. Every student had seen more or less the same thing after their minds had been altered, but, as in real life, each had different perspectives of the event, different opinions and different emotions. Professor Xavier must have been an expert at manipulating minds, which made Ranma all the more grateful that it seemed his own mind couldn't be invaded by the man.

Ranma had given the matter a bit of thought during the weekend, between bouts of training, eating, sleeping and other necessities.

The man had said that when he got near his mind, something lashed out.

Though Ranma had no proof, he had his suspicion that his cat persona may not have completely disappeared after all, merely stuck around as a form of guardian where he had no natural defense, namely his mind.

As he entered the halls, headed for his homeroom, Ranma pondered what would happen to a more persistent intruder than Professor Xavier. Would the cat stop them completely, scare them away or only put them on edge throughout their stay, causing them to make mistakes that even he could feel?

Looking around his homeroom Ranma caught the eye of Rogue, who looked away after a moment. Apparently, his display of skill in the Danger Room had intimidated her.

Sighing, Ranma took his seat next to Risty, momentarily forgetting that he had more than one friend in the room.

"Is something the matter, Ranma?"

Ranma looked to the side and saw a curious Risty looking back at him.

"Did something happen between you and Rogue this weekend?" she added more urgently in a whisper.

"You could say that," Ranma muttered. "I think I put on a bit of an intimidating display of skill for her and her housemates …"

"What-"

"Alright, class," interrupted the teacher sternly. "It's time to open our books to page thirty-seven, Mr Saotome, why don't you start reading, I'll interrupt when I want someone else to continue."

* * *

As lunch finally came around, Ranma thought he would be able to get away from the awkwardness of Rogue being afraid of him. He was wrong, as Risty proved by grabbing his arm and Rogue's, then dragged them to the cafeteria.

Once in the cafeteria, Risty persuasively sat her two friends into the seats opposite her on the previously vacant table, then looked at them expectantly.

"So, details," she demanded playfully. "Where did the two of you kiss and how did your housemates stumble over the scene, Rogue?"

"KISS?" Ranma demanded loudly. After seeing the curious glances from the rest of the student body, he sat back down and composed himself. "I never mentioned any sort of kissing." He grumbled.

"Then what kind of skill did you display to Rogue and her friends?" countered Risty, taking a certain amount of pleasure from seeing the two of them blush.

"Martial Arts, of course!" Ranma hissed. "I'm an excellent Martial Artist … the _best_!"

"I can see how that would be intimidating …" Risty drawled, unconvinced.

Before anything else could be said, Ranma's stomach decided to let everyone know that it hadn't gotten any attention for a while, in the form of a hungry growl.

"Alright, go get your food," Risty laughed. "Rogue and I will hold the table while you're gone!"

As Ranma got up, he realized something was up. "You're going to talk about me, aren't you?"

"Maybe …"

Sighing in defeat, Ranma headed for the by now long line of students waiting to pay for, and eat their lunches.

Standing in line was not very fun. There was food just within reach, but he was unable to commence eating until he had paid for it. It was _torture._

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ranma was on his way back to his seat.

Halfway there, a leg extended into his path, and Ranma stopped before coming over it.

Following the limb up to its owner, Ranma found a blond boy in a football jersey looking back at him with contempt.

"Think you're all that," the boy muttered. "Gook."

"Excuse me?"

"You think you can just _stroll_ around like you own the place?" the boy continued. "You've got some nerve!"

Shaking his head at the foolishness of his fellow student, Ranma stepped around the leg and continued towards the table where Risty and Rogue were watching his progress with worry.

A chair scraped against the floor, and a hand prevented Ranma's forward momentum.

"We're not finished here, gook!" growled the boy.

"We are," Ranma countered and shook the hand off.

As he took his next step, Ranma's danger senses went off, and combined with the shadows on the ground, the whistling air behind him and the sound of a step gave him grounds enough to move the lifted foot and side-step the punch that was originally aimed at the back of his head.

"I have no quarrel with you," Ranma ground out. Had he been at Furinkan, he would have retaliated without hesitation, but Principal Kelly had made things very clear, and Ranma wasn't about to make enemies with the man just yet. "Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone."

"'S just as I thought!" the boy snapped angrily. "You people are _cowards_!"

"Excuse me?" asked Ranma coolly. "Which one of us was it that attempted to trip the other? Who threw a punch while the other had their back turned? It certainly wasn't _me_, so by simple logic that would make _you_ the coward, and me the one with restraint. Now, good day, and _have a pleasant meal_ … baka."

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?" the boy roared.

"I don't know that I called you anything," Ranma replied airily as he continued. "Have a good time explaining to the teachers why you assaulted me!"

Had the boy been smart enough, he would have at least waited with his assault until the teacher set to keep watch over the cafeteria was busy with something else. But as he hadn't, the teacher had more than enough time to march up behind the boy and place a restraining hand on his shoulders before he could charge after Ranma again.

"Mr Ewing, I think the two of us should pay the Principal a visit," the teacher stated.

Ranma smirked as he sat down with Rogue and Risty. That was one of the _very few_ battles he had won without raising a fist. He knew the "war" was far from over. Such deep seeded hatred that rolled off the kid wouldn't disappear at a single reprimand. But with any luck, the next "battle" would take place somewhere off campus, where Principal Kelly had no authority.

"That was … tense," Risty commented.

"Yeah," agreed Rogue. "For a moment there, I thought you would fight back …"

"Normally, I would. But I can't," Ranma groused. "Principal was very clear on how he viewed breaking the rules, and fighting would possibly get me expelled."

"You know that boy won't let this go, right?" Risty questioned.

"Of course," Ranma agreed.

"And you're not worried?"

"Why should I be?" asked Ranma. "There's nothing he can do to me that I can't avoid."

"But what if he has a gun?"

"Why would he have a gun? I thought you had to be of age to even be _considered_ for buying one …"

"There are always unregistered guns," Rogue chipped in. "Guns can be bought from thugs off the street for very little. Individual guns, that is. And _they_ won't check for age or registration."

"Meh, as long as I can see him, he's of no danger to me," stated Ranma confidently and commenced the consuming of food.

* * *

After school, Ranma declined another of Risty's offers for him to come with her and Rogue to some teen hangout in town.

Again, Ranma didn't want to take the chance of the curse activating at inopportune times until he had told Risty of it.

Instead, he decided to visit the Mansion. After all, if he wanted to do his job well he needed to get to know the lay of the land, to see where all the current security measures were in place. A practice run, so to speak.

He also felt like talking with Logan, maybe even talk him into letting him into the Danger Room again.

The jog there took only half an hour. Ranma found it almost a shame that most modern people would have used a car to travel that distance, even if they weren't in a hurry. They didn't know what they were missing, getting more in touch with nature was a wonderful thing. And a good few could use the exercise. People were just too lazy nowadays.

The outside of the Mansion gates looked very poorly guarded.

That was the first thing he had to tell them. They didn't necessarily have to add security to the outside, but simply the _illusion_ of better surveillance would dissuade a good portion of those seeking illegal entry.

Of course, those determined to get in would not be put off by a few security cameras.

Picking a random spot along the fine brick wall, Ranma jumped onto it, and took a look at what security measures could be spotted without setting them off.

There was something in a tree not far from the wall. Some metal box that looked almost like a toaster was peeking out, alerting him to some sort of defensive measure. Or, as there ran a path close to the tree, it may be part of a training device.

Some patches of grass were discolored along the path made on the ground, it was doubtful that this was for surveillance which left some sort of weapon to fire at intruders with or another training device. From what Logan had told him during their conversation on the way to see Professor Xavier, there were quite a few training devices designed to fire at the students while they were running the gauntlet, so to speak. These would of course manage to double as a defensive measure.

The mansion, what he could see from here, looked very vulnerable and a gleam of metal reflected in the windows told him that there was some metal hidden just out of sight, so given their position, they could be a form of armoring to cover the vulnerable spots such as doors and windows.

Dropping to the ground on the other side of the wall, Ranma almost stepped into the line of sight of a camera which was mounted in a tree. It was just luck that it was turning as he walked in, or it would have spotted him.

Small sensors were peeking out of the discolored grass, so Ranma steered clear of those.

He was passing a bush, when some movement in it caused him to jump, literally.

It was a good thing he did so, as a device that could only be describes as a double-barreled cannon on a robotic arm rose from the shrubbery, and started scanning the ground where he had been.

There being no branches to grab onto, Ranma did the only thing he could to avoid detection; he landed on top of the thing and waited until it started lowering itself again before leaping away.

In his trek across the grounds, Ranma discovered that to a normal criminal, the thuggish and graceless kind, gaining entry without detection was nearly impossible unless they had very good luck and the security system was having a bad day.

It was as he was almost at the front door that Ranma could smell oil, grease and sweat; Logan's sweat to be precise. It was coming from a different direction, so he decided to find him there instead of taking longer by asking for him.

It was in the garage that Ranma found Logan, kneeling beside a motorcycle, cleaning its parts.

"So this is what you do with your time …" Ranma commented casually as he leaned over the man's shoulders.

"Eager to work, eh?" grunted Logan as he deposited the part he had been working on, and reached for a dirty rag to clean off the worst of the gunk on his hands. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him.

"Nah, just scouting the place out. You know, I didn't even use any advanced skills to get this far," Ranma replied. "Security around here needs a serious adjustment. If I had hostile intent, half the people in this mansion would be dead by now."

"Been tellin' Chuck as much for months …" Logan agreed. "The only attack he's prepared for is a full frontal assault. He's countin' on bein' able to detect other intruders himself."

"That's not very smart," Ranma commented. "There should always be a backup detection somewhere."

"And there would be," interrupted another voice. "But it has not been an issue until now."

"Chuck," grunted Logan, and got up. "Kid just came to prepare for his job. Let's just say that what he's found out so far ain't exactly comforting."

"I see," agreed Professor Xavier where he sat in his wheelchair. As he was inside the garage, it was unlikely that he had come in through the garage door like Ranma had. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to draw up a map of where extra sensors should be installed, Mr Saotome. When you hand in your report for your first assignment, of course."

"Sure," sighed Ranma. He didn't like paper work. But at least he wouldn't have a teacher hanging over his shoulder, correcting his language as he wrote like he almost had in school after it came out that his written English could use some work.

"I'm guessin' checking the security wasn't the main reason you came to visit," Logan stated as he reached for a cigar. At the frown from Professor Xavier, the man gave up on that idea and started clearing away the equipment he'd used.

"Well …"

"And I'm guessin' it ain't a crush on someone."

"Well …"

"You want another go at the Danger Room, don't 'cha?"

"If I can, yes. I don't want to be a bother …"

"No bother," Logan grunted. "Was gonna do a system check about now, anyway, and what better way to check the system than puttin' it through its paces, right?"

* * *

Author's Notes: I've noticed that some people think that giving Ranma mutant powers in this story would be over the top, but just to voice my opinion in the matter, having Ranma adapt to his new skills, getting them under his full control will not be easy, even if people will naturally assume that he is as skilled as he is simply because he is a mutant, and thus uses his mutant powers to cheat, no matter what powers he would get. I will still not disclose what powers Ranma will get, because I know I'll get flames and shockers because of it. Just keep in mind that Ranma will have trouble adjusting physically.

I am not planning on having a Ranma/Rogue pairing as anything but friends, so please don't read too much into the whole "so you kissed?" sequence. I'm sure most of us would blush at such an accusation and subsequent eruption in public as well, not necessarily from having gotten caught at something, but out of embarrassment.

Racism is something I rarely see anything of in those stories where Ranma is an exchange student, or travels to other countries, so, in order to at least stand out a little I decided to add another antagonist to the story; namely Racism, and those few at Bayville High that practice it openly against foreigners. Racism is hardly rational, so I won't bother trying to add a reason for Mr Ewing's hatred in this chapter as it would seem too rushed. By the way, did you know that Racism is a sneaky thing? Even having a grudge against Racists would make you a Racist yourself, as they could be classified as a group with different ideals than you … very sneaky …

I am unsure of how to proceed to X-M:E 202 … I'm not sure how long time passed between 201 and 202, and can't figure out how to fill the space between, hence the strangeness of this chapter …

For those who are interested, I have opened an account at DeviantART, and made it my homepage in my profile … I've posted a few drawings there, and will likely have posted more by the time this chapter is posted.

Credits: I want to thank the guys at The Fanfiction Forum, more specifically the Naruto Previews section, for giving me the idea of how Ranma might better cope with having several sources of information forcing their way into his head at once.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	8. Book 2 Chapter 05 BadaBing

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Five – Bada-Bing

* * *

Standing in a metal corridor, similar to those found in large ships, Ranma looked up and down.

A few sparks erupted from severed electrical connections in wiring along the ceiling, and red lights were flashing.

Just moments ago a great rumble and quake had been felt, followed by the call for all personnel to report to their battle stations.

"I still don't see why-"

"Variation, kid," interrupted Logan. "I already know you can sneak in and use only what you wore or was born with to accomplish your goals, now I want to see you try something more restricted, like weapons. Besides, this is a very popular game, you should be glad Forge managed to program the Danger Room into playing it with the limits that your body sets."

"That's what you said about that Fantasy game as well!" Ranma argued, remembering the training session he had endured in the Danger Room in the form of another game. "Not that I mind the weapons that much," he added. "But the armor is too much! I can barely move in it without feeling like it'll break or rip!"

"It's there for your own protection," Logan insisted. "While I'm sure you wouldn't get hurt by a few energy blasts, Chuck would be most displeased if any of his students or guests got injured under my care. Think of it as my bike helmet; it's not really necessary, but keeps people off my back about safety."

"INCOMING!" a thin, squeaky voice screamed in panic down the hall, accompanied by a deep, grunting "Wort-wort-wort!" and followed by an explosion. The sounds of battle increased soon after.

"Alright," Ranma agreed glumly. "But I'm doing this out of protest."

"Understood," Logan chuckled.

"THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" continued a similarly shrill, panicked, squeaky voice down the hall. Crossing over from one side of the darkened corridor entrance to the other was a short, dark-blue creature, with a gas mask that made it look like a pig, and a red torso armor that extended in a spike about two feet above its head from its back, creating a cavity which probably contained something vital. It was clearly terrified, if the flailing arms and screaming was any indication.

"This is the invading force?" Ranma asked in a snort.

"Keep your guard up, kid, those things are tougher than they look, and they aren't the only ones there with you," Logan cautioned.

The fact was proven by another creature rounding into the corridor, standing about eight-and-a-half feet tall, and wearing blue armor all over, with the exception of its eyes, and its mouth, which was composed of four mandibles.

It had spotted him, and with a crackling hum activated a sword composed of two blades running parallel in the shape of a teardrop up from a horizontal handle.

Not having a better solution at the time, Ranma opened fire at it with his Assault Rifle, and watched as the digital counter on it diminished his ammo as it harmlessly bounced off a shield surrounding the charging alien.

As the counter hit forty, the shield fizzled out of existence, and the bullets bounced mostly off the hard metal armor of the alien. Still it charged at him, heedless to its diminishing defense.

At twenty, Ranma discovered that as the creature was roaring, it presented a very obvious "soft spot", and fired a single bullet at it.

With a -bang!- and a splatter, the creature's eyes rolled into the back of its head and it collapsed limply on the ground before him. The sword deactivated and clattered out of its hand.

Seeing as he was starting to run low on ammo, Ranma realized that if he was to achieve whatever goal this game had, he needed to learn how to aim the weapon properly, and conserve his ammunition as best he could.

Moving as carefully as only a strong and trained soldier in a suit of armor weighing over seventy kilos could pull off; Ranma approached the entrance to the corridor, and leaned against one wall to get a view of the crossing corridor outside.

The body of the previously panicked creature was leaning against the wall, and purple spatter of blood colored the gray metal plating. On the ground next to it lay a bright purple weapon, with crystal needles poking out of its rounded back like a hedgehog, and hanging from the red chest plating, was a pair of blue orbs; alien grenades!

Despite the violence and carnage that would very likely occur, Ranma couldn't help but think that this game looked very promising.

* * *

"That was _cool_!" Ranma couldn't help but exclaim as he exited the Danger Room.

He had finished the game in no more than an hour-and-a-half, and had not restocked his firearms' ammunition by the time the game had ended. Conserving his weapons, sound tactics, the creative use of enemy grenades and rushing through had paid off.

Granted, his shield and armor had taken a beating, and was on the verge of giving out on him several times, but a few seconds of rest had restored the shield, and the carelessly abandoned med kits the human soldiers had taken with them into danger had restored his armor.

Actually, this game had made him consider creating a version of Gun Fu and merge it into the Anything Goes. Not that he'd use guns unless absolutely necessary, but learning how to use them with expert proficiency and with as few unnecessary movements as possible would be useful if he ever ended up in a gunfight.

And now that he wasn't wearing it anymore, he almost missed the Mjolnir Battle Armour. It was almost like an all encompassing weight training, not straining only a single group of muscles, but all of them. Maybe he could play the game a couple of times a week, and have Logan increase the weight of the thing each time?

"Have fun?" chuckled Logan as he walked down the corridor so Professor Xavier could prepare the standard programs for the X-Men kids after school. This morning was scheduled for rescue operations on the cliffs on the mansion facing the sea, with Nightcrawler as the unconscious victim. This wasn't something he looked forward to, as only a few of them all took the training seriously, and a few didn't even care that they were being trained to handle an emergency. "Wanna have a look at the kids in a rescue mission?"

"Nah," Ranma dismissed. "I'd be too tempted to point out mistakes or acts of laziness, and _someone_ would not appreciate my comments."

They both knew whom Ranma was referring to, without it being stated outright. They were both aware of Scott being somewhat less tolerant where Ranma was involved. Where this had started was unknown. It could have been that Ranma's skills had nothing to do with mutation, or it could have something to do with Jean having taken an interest in observing Ranma's sessions in the Danger Room, and reading his reports on the security of the Mansion.

One would have to be blind not to notice the severe crush Scott had on Jean, and though he was blind to those romances involving _him_, Ranma was not blind to the attraction between Scott and Jean.

"Besides, I need to get ready for school. I left my books in my room at the Brotherhood, and we have written homework to hand in for Science," Ranma added. "I got the subject of photosynthesis, and compared it to modern industry."

"Sounds fascinating," drawled Logan, indicating clearly that he wasn't sincere.

"No less so than babysitting a bunch of reckless teens," Ranma countered.

* * *

Back at the Brotherhood, Ranma ignored the usual morning complaints of his housemates' lack of funds to keep them fed.

It wasn't his responsibility, and he was still peeved with them for taking the food he had placed in the refrigerator one night in preparation for his breakfast and lunch.

It may have seemed petty and selfish, but it was _his_ food, bought with _his_ money! They had no right to help themselves when they were perfectly aware of each others' lack of money, thus incapability of purchasing said products on their own, and hadn't even thought to ask permission first!

As they were otherwise preoccupied with moaning about their lack of food and money, they didn't notice Ranma walking past them into the house, nor saw him as he left with his school things.

The walk to school was uneventful, apart from Ranma making a wide berth around a puddle in the road to avoid getting splashed, and for once Ranma was pretty satisfied with how peaceful things had been compared to Nerima. The only fuss he got himself into, was the scuffles with the "Brotherhood" and the job he had gotten to check the security of the Xavier Institute, which he had done earlier that morning and which had led to his playing that cool game in the Danger Room.

He hadn't heard anything from that kid who tried to fight him in the cafeteria, and though it put him a little on the edge not having stock of where his potential enemies were, it didn't worry him too much.

"**Good morning, students,"** announced Principal Kelly over the school's Public Announcement system. **"Tonight is the **_**big night**_**; the Bayville High Carnival Fund-Raiser! Folks, remember; all proceeds will help cover the cost of the rebuilding of our Gymnasium after last month's fire! So, we really hope to see you all back here tonight!"**

Ranma shook his head as he walked through the crowded hallways. They all really thought that all the damage had been caused by a fire, not a scuffle started between two factions of mutants over the exposure of the existence of their powers.

He had since he was offered the job managed to reveal his curse to Risty, who had taken the discovery very well, even going as far as to suggest the "Triple R" friends have a "Girls' Night Out" in the not-too-distant future. This was of course a proposition Ranma wasn't exactly thrilled about, but couldn't rule it out completely now that he didn't have an excuse to decline all the offers Risty made on her own and Rogue's behalf to spend time with them at some place or another.

Classes were a bore, and Ranma felt it unfair that the teachers kept their focus mostly on him instead of other students who seemed to be doing a lot worse than him. He would have thought it racism, if not for the fact that he had not been doing so well when he first arrived, and the teachers hadn't caught on to his improvements. That, or his improvements were under review to see if he was cheating in some way before they started treating him as a normal student.

After school was out, Risty almost fervently pulled Ranma and Rogue along.

"Come on you two," she added. "We have to get there before all the other teens think of going as well!"

"Where?" asked Ranma, who felt like a flag whipping in the wind as Risty pulled him along.

"The Carnival, of course!" Risty chirped.

"But it won't open for hours!" Rogue protested. "There won't be anythin' to do but watch the grass grow until then!"

"Exactly! More time to talk!" Risty declared. "But, if you want something to do, I'm sure we could get something to snack on. Ranma would pay, of course!"

"Hey!"

"You're the only one among us with an income," Risty explained smugly. "Which is why you're the one who will buy us tickets for the Carnival tonight, and anything extra!"

"_HEY_!"

"It's the price you pay for having a "double date" with two attractive young women, Ranma. You'll have to be the gentleman and offer to pay."

"I didn't offer to pay!"

"No, but you more or less invited us, so that implies that it is your treat," Risty countered, and shared a look with Rogue, who had stayed out of the discussion thus far. "Right?"

"Yeah, sure," Rogue shrugged, trying to sound non-committing despite her statement.

"Think of it as an investment," Risty continued. "This will buy you "brownie-points" for any future event, such as a potential romance between either of us, or we'll come with you to something only you want to go to without complaint, sound good?"

Though he didn't really see the possibility of such events occurring, it never hurt to be a little prudent. After all, it was always a good thing to be owed a favor.

"Fine …"

"Good," Risty confirmed with unrestrained satisfaction at her accomplishment. "Now, I hear you've been to the Xavier Institute a lot. What do you do up there? Do you have a secret girlfriend?"

"No, I-"

"Oh, a _boyfriend_, then?"

"NO! I ain't like that!" Ranma objected vehemently. "I go up there to train, work or play this game where you go around shooting aliens on this huge ring that has its own atmosphere after your space ship crashes on it …"

"Halo?"

"Hello?"

"No, I meant the name of the game you're describing," Risty corrected.

"Whatever, it's really fun!" Ranma dismissed. The name wasn't important, after all. For all he cared, the title could have been "Super Crappy Shooting Game with Lame Characters," the game would still be good. "And I'm seriously considering further developing something called Gun-Fu. I'll probably never use one, but it couldn't hurt to know how to use a gun anyway."

"Then you should see the Matrix as well," recommended Risty. "It has a lot of fancy gunman-ship and cool special effects in similar style to old Hong Kong Kung Fu movies."

"Really? Is it any good?"

Risty wrapped an arm around Ranma's neck, and pulled Rogue into a similar half-embrace with her other, grinning knowingly. "There's only one way to find out … _after_ the carnival!"

* * *

After hours of waiting, the Carnival opened.

Ranma, Rogue and Risty were among the first to enter, and Ranma sighed heavily as he watched the better part of his latest pay for one assessment stowed away into a strong-box for safety. If this was the cost of having girl friends, how expensive would things become when he got a girlfriend?

This thought was shook off as it would only cause him to avoid romantic involvement with anyone. Hopefully, his girl friends wouldn't have bled him dry by the time he got a girlfriend, and he would have saved up enough so he didn't have to worry about it too much. Maybe there was an underground fighting arena in the area where he could participate and bet his wages on himself?

Rogue was a little more reluctant about spending Ranma's money, and had at least offered to pay her own way, but Risty had waved it off and proclaimed that Ranma had nothing at all against it.

There weren't very many activities that required skill and accuracy, apart from the shooting gallery and the hoop shots, so Ranma was more or less obligated to being pulled along with Risty and Rogue until such time that Risty wanted him to win her a stuffed plush toy.

"There's something wrong with the aim of this thing," Ranma grumbled as he barely nicked the metal bunny target that hopped across a mechanical field with others of its kind, happily ignoring Ranma's attempts at shooting it.

"No, there's not," objected the man running the stall, temporarily removing his cigar from his mouth in order to make himself understood. "Don't blame my guns for your lack of skill!"

"Ranma," Risty interrupted. "If you know there's something wrong with the aim, correct it accordingly, don't complain. Think of it as a challenge to do well regardless of obstacles and faulty equipment. Now, win me that bear!" Turning to the insulted man, she added, "He'll have another try."

Despite the corniness of the motivational speech his friend had given, Ranma felt himself desiring to win despite the odds, so Ranma aimed at the hopping bunny, adjusted the sight a few degrees ahead of the bunny, then fired, scoring a nearly perfect hit that knocked the metal bunny target back and out of sight.

Repeating the performance in quick succession with the remainder of his pellets, Ranma managed nearly perfect hits – though no one else would know that they weren't perfect, as there were hundreds of little dents on the targets, and distinguishing a new one from an old one would be impossible without an entire Science Lab on hand. The hits still counted and Risty walked away from the stall with Ranma and Rogue, holding a stuffed bear almost as big as herself, grinning smugly.

Rogue had a bear that fit perfectly on her arm, and seemed almost ashamed at her audacity, taking one of the prizes Ranma had won.

Ranma was mentally reviewing his kata, and added a pair of guns into the mix, thinking up how to modify those kata to fit in with the added reach and how to prevent bullets from striking him.

Ranma was shaken from his thoughts as the head of a stuffed bear ahead of them exploded in fluff. The boy holding it for his girlfriend was very surprised, while the girlfriend wasn't near as disappointed as one would expect. No, she was laughing at the sight of her boyfriend covered in fluff.

Ranma traced the explosion back to a blonde girl, who disappeared with Kurt in a bamph.

This was serious.

It was Ranma's understanding that the students at the Xavier Institute were forbidden from using their special abilities in public unless there was some sort of emergency, which this obviously was not. He had also understood based on what he had heard from Rogue that Kurt and Tabitha were confined to the Mansion as a form of punishment for some stunt they had pulled during training that morning.

"Rogue," Ranma hissed, and pointed from the destroyed bear to a stall behind which Kurt and Tabitha appeared in a direct line of fire for the Blob, who had just bought a large hotdog with everything on it. Where he had gotten the money, Ranma had no idea. "Aren't they supposed to be grounded?"

"They are," Rogue agreed. "Ah'll go contact the Professor."

"I'll follow them to make sure they won't get into trouble until then," Ranma continued. "Sorry, Risty, but I think we'll have to call it a night! Enjoy the bear!"

"Hey!" Risty objected. "I was going to ask for popcorn!"

Ranma didn't hear her, though, as after blowing up Blob's hotdog in his face ("Hey! When said I wanted it loaded, this wasn't what I meant!") Kurt and Tabitha had split up for some reason, and Tabitha was approaching a suspicious man that had been in the hallways earlier that day. "Boom-Boom" seemed to know the man, but didn't seem at all happy about going with him even if she wasn't resisting.

Something nefarious was definitely afoot, and Ranma intended on keeping an eye on the two. Kurt was a decent boy at heart, and as such wasn't as reckless as Tabitha appeared to be, so he could be trusted not to get himself into trouble for a short while.

It was at times like this when Ranma wanted his Clone Technique to be flawless as the ability to shadow two different persons in two different places would be useful. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure of the range he could travel from his clone before it dissolved, so experimenting with it at that time was not an option, as the rush of information would disable him if he ended up in a battle situation, however unlikely that seemed.

Keeping to the shadows, Ranma followed Tabitha and the suspicious man into the school, through the hallways and into the office, taking note of Tabitha's handiwork on all the locks. Those blast marks left behind were easy to distinguish, and with the lack of ozone and burnt gunpowder smell, there had not been any explosives used. She really needed to learn to bring some gunpowder to set off with her bombs, or experts might soon discover that there shouldn't have been any way for the explosions to go off. Forensics could be very good if they set their minds to solving a mystery, and though he wasn't a close friend of Tabitha, he was friends _of sort_ with Logan, who was her teacher and who would have his head if he let a chance to help his student improve slip though his fingers.

In the secretary's office, Ranma watched as Tabitha blew out the safe hidden behind a painting, and reached in to grab the heavy bag within.

"Stop right there," called Ranma and stepped out of the shadows.

"Ranma," Tabitha gasped. Every student and teacher at the Xavier Institute knew his name, and had seen what he was capable of in the recording made during his first session in the Danger Room. Oddly enough, Logan had flat-out refused any more such recordings to be kept of Ranma's time in there after that. For the sake of maintaining the peace of the mansion, Professor Xavier had agreed, much to the objection of Scott, who wanted to learn what Ranma was capable of, should he turn out to be an enemy.

"Who's this clown?" asked the man. "'He from that freak-show you go to?"

"No, he's human," Tabitha corrected, not taking her eyes off Ranma. "But he's skilled enough at fighting to make Bruce Lee look like a first-day novice, and he's friends with one of my teachers. We should do as he says."

"Like Hell I will," objected the man. "I came all this way for a decent payday, and I'm not going to let some snot-nosed little wannabe stand in my way, mutant or not!"

Making a break for it, the man tried to pass Ranma into the hallway, but failed to notice the foot that suddenly appeared before his own as it was about to lift from the ground, sending him skidding along the floor and making him release the bag.

"That money is for the repairs of the Gymnasium," Ranma continued sternly. "I can't let you get away with it."

"Then how 'bout lettin' _us_ have it?" asked a whiny voice. Jumping around the corner was Toad, who was wearing the same "uniform" he had during the rally.

The boy's green tongue shot out and grabbed on to the bag, pulling it back in one tug.

"Hey! Come back here!" Ranma called and chose to abandon the lower priority of detaining the thief over reclaiming school property and restoring it to safety.

Ranma was fast, no doubt about it. The air-pressure rattling lockers and whipping up loose bits of paper that had not been properly disposed of testified to it as he ran down the hallways after Toad. Toad's leaps were also fast, but Ranma was gaining on the greenish boy.

Just as he was about to grab Toad's leg and prevent him from leaping any further, the boy tossed the bag ahead of himself into the waiting arms of Blob, who had gotten cleaned up somewhat from the exploding hot dog.

"Bye," the large boy laughed and started stomping his way down the hall.

Ranma was about to follow him when the floor under him started to shake.

Before he could lose his balance, Ranma leaped to the ceiling and propelled himself towards Avalanche, who looked somewhat surprised at the height of Ranma's jump. The boy was easy to knock out, given that he had no time to raise a defense, so Ranma reoriented himself quickly upon landing.

-Taff!-

Ranma's head turned with the weak but quick punch.

Turning back, he found only a silver streak trailing around to his back.

-Taff!-

Ranma swayed forwards as a kick connected with the small of his back.

Feeling the Quicksilver racing around, Ranma focused his attention on finding a pattern to the boy's attacks, and three more attacks down the line, he thought he had it and lashed out with a punch – and missed. Though that locker looked very modern and compact with its deep new dent in the shape of a fist.

"Hah!" mocked the Speed Demon smugly. "I knew you'd run out of tricks eventually!"

"Who said that?" Ranma asked, making sure to hide that he was annoyed at the kid avoiding his punch like that. "I've got more tricks up my sleeve than a battalion of magicians!"

To illustrate this, Ranma reached into his sleeve and pulled out a note with a large kanji for "Still" written across the front, and a red border of ink surrounding the black writing. Although the symbol could just as well have been Alien as the white-haired boy couldn't read or understand Japanese.

"This, for instance is made to petrify its target," Ranma explained and held it out for the white-haired teen. "I could slap this onto my opponent, and they would freeze in place until it was removed, not dead or actually frozen, but all voluntary muscle reaction stilled, incapable of responding to mental commands."

"Yoink!" the note disappeared from Ranma's hand, and Pietro slapped it onto Ranma's arm. "Ha! Defeated by your own weapon! Ironic, isn't it?"

Toad landed near the still Ranma and poked him in the leg, getting no response.

"What do you think we should do to him?" the greenish boy asked, not sure whether to be excited or cautious. Ranma had the feel of a predator, and this put the animal in him on high alert around him. This was also one of the reasons he tried to avoid Logan, as he got a similar feeling around him.

"I was thinking about stripping him, gluing his hands into his hair and dropping him off in the middle of Bayville during the morning commute," a smug Pietro contemplated as he came closer. "That should be enough warning not to mess with the Brotherhood again!"

Ranma's outstretched hand suddenly grabbed hold of Quicksilver's uniform. The other hand grabbed Toad's arm before he could leap out of the way.

"I don't think so," gloated the not-at-all petrified Ranma.

"H-how?" whimpered Toad in fright, having been completely convinced about Ranma's state of immobility.

"You didn't think I was dumb enough to tell you about a weapon that would work on me, did you? The note was a decoy and I was playing possum, in a manner of speaking, waiting until the 'Speed Demon' was close enough not to evade my grasp. Now, what did you say about stripping someone and gluing their hands into their hair? Was it something you wanted done to you? Or maybe I should think out a more fitting punishment for the stunt you guys are pulling?"

* * *

Emerging from the school alone, Ranma clapped his hands together to shake off imaginary dust. That had been fun. Toad and Quicksilver had been unfortunately bruised and scratched in the short disciplinary action they had been given, but hopefully they would abandon their ideas of besting him. While Quicksilver may not need a cast on his arm, he would likely need to keep it in a sling for a week or two.

"Stay away from me!" Ranma heard an angry roar from the roped-off gym, Blob's voice unless someone else had it.

The following sound and feel of an energy discharge led Ranma to believe that the "X-Men" had also jumped in to save the money. Scott, or "Red-Eye" as Ranma had taken to calling the boy, was firing his optic beams, and Ranma found that decision very unsound.

That building was not stable enough to withstand the duress of a fight between mutants and it seemed none of them were too concerned about that fact. Ranma decided it was up to him to remind them, and possibly end the fight before anyone got hurt.

Desperate calls from the roof sounded as soon as Ranma was near the gym.

"Dad! Forget the money! Just grab my hands!"

That was Tabitha. Had they taken a different way out? He hadn't seen them pass him in the hallway, so that must have been it.

As this sounded almost more urgent than warning those inside, Ranma bunched up his legs under him and shot off in a mild super jump that carried him easily to the roof where he saw the suspicious man fallen halfway through the unstable roof, reaching for the bag of money instead of Tabitha's outstretched hand. So, he was her father. That explained why he had sought her out.

"Need any help?" Ranma found himself asking as he casually walked onto the roof. Though it appeared casual and spontaneous, Ranma used a modification of the water-walking technique to keep from applying too much weight onto a single spot and thus falling through. "Why, look at this! A bag full of money that the school seems to have misplaced! Should I return them before attempting the rescue of the guy who misplaced them, grab both at the same time, or save the _thief_ before the money?"

"Save him! Please!" Tabitha called in response, not at all appearing like her usual casual, self-serving self.

"Don't touch that money, kid!" the man snapped. "It's mine!"

"The school would probably disagree," Ranma retaliated and grabbed onto the man's outstretched arm, ignoring the protests. Ignoring even stronger protests, Ranma slung the man over his shoulder and grabbed the bag of money before walking towards Tabitha, appearing like he wasn't carrying anything worth slumping over for, even if the man probably weighed close to two hundred pounds and the bag about seventy. "I think one of these belong to you," he commented as soon as he was within reach of the blonde teenage girl. "Do you want it now or on the ground?"

"On the ground would be safer," Tabitha admitted.

"Good, because with the fighting going on between Blob and the "X-Men" this building isn't going to be standing for much longer …" Ranma sighed theatrically. "Do you want to go through the building, or take the express over the edge?"

"Which is safer?"

"Over the edge," Ranma commented casually, shifting to keep the wriggling man on his shoulder from falling off. "By now the structural integrity of the building has been compromised, and it is only a matter of time before it collapses. All aboard who are going aboard!"

The normally care-free blonde jumped onto Ranma's side and wrapped herself around him. This threw Ranma out of loop for a moment as he got a flashback of Shampoo doing something similar under different circumstances.

After a moment, he composed himself and managed to walk off the roof without much trouble in maneuverability with the blonde teen attached to his chest and right leg.

-Thud!-

Landing was a little awkward, and Ranma felt a few muscles in his shins pull enough to keep any regular person off their feet for at least a week. But having an image to uphold, Ranma sent a burst of ki into the injuries to at least dampen any pain and further aggravation to them until such time that he had the opportunity to heal properly.

"Ground floor, Jewelery, Sports-wear, Ladies' Underwear and Fishing Gear," declared Ranma in a facsimile of a line from a movie he had seen once. He couldn't remember exactly which shops were mentioned, but that wasn't as important as the facade it put up; hiding that he had gotten hurt. "Get going, the building looks about ready to-"

-Groan!-

"Okay change of plans, hang on!" Ranma hurried, grabbed onto Tabitha and her father, while still holding the bag, and ran away from the building as it started to sag with no little noise.

-Groan!-Rumble!-Crash!-

Behind the three, the Gymnasium collapsed in a cloud of dust that quickly spread to cover them.

As the dust settled, Ranma was gone, and so was the bag. Tabitha remained with her father just in time for the police to arrive.

"Mr Smith!" one of the policemen yelled and directed a gun at the man. "You are under arrest for breaking the Restraining Order set at five hundred feet from your daughter, for attempted robbery, coercion of a minor, and destruction of School property! Step away from the girl with your hands behind your head!"

* * *

Watching the arrest of Tabitha's dad from the window in the Principal's office, Ranma noted that Professor Xavier was present in the crowd. The police may have responded as quickly as they had with the bald man's influence, but it was unlikely. The man's morals were too high for him to stoop to the level of summoning the police and having them believe Tabitha's dad was a threat to anyone.

The bag of money was back in the safe, and Ranma smirked as he noted the paramedics wheeling Pietro out of the school, bruises forming on top of bruises. Todd wasn't hurt that badly, it had really been by accident that the boy was injured at all, but he wasn't about to let the Brotherhood know that. It would be bad for his image.

* * *

The following morning, Ranma was making himself breakfast in the dilapidated Brotherhood kitchen, when one of his warmed rolls was stolen from his hand.

-Crunch!-

Turning to the source of the sound, he found Tabitha with the bun in hand, eating away.

"What are you doing?" asked Ranma sternly. Never mind what she was doing at the Brotherhood, what did she think she was doing eating his food while he was still making it.

"Having breakfast!" Tabitha chirped. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know! Mmh, good roll! You should think about becoming a chef … or a baker at least!"

"I bought them," Ranma deadpanned. "I don't have the time to bake every morning, and I am not the chef of the Brotherhood Boarding House, so in the future you can get your own food instead of stealing from me. I don't like it when someone takes something from me, especially food. Do you understand?"

"Sure thing, Sunshine!" Tabitha goaded and took another bite.

"Why are you here, anyway? Did they kick you out of the Institute for your dad's stunt?"

"No, I just didn't like having to answer to the Prof for everything I do, so I left. I found this great room upstairs, if you want to visit during the night and find out what a _firecracker_ I am, my door is always open … it has to, because I blew the lock to open it."

"Why me?"

* * *

Author's Notes: I know, I know. I'm a bad person, but I just _had_ to include Halo into another one of my stories, though this is the most obvious crossover of them yet. But it will not be as anything more than a game and training for Ranma.

As for the exact geographical location of Bayville, I'm at a loss. There exists a Bayville in the state of New York, north-east of Queens if memory serves, but some earlier episodes of the original X-Men cartoon and some earlier comics suggest it may be in a northern neighboring state.

And the time of the episode is a little uncertain as well. The PA announcement said it was "last month" that the fire took place, but does that mean that one month had passed, or that the fire was at the end of the month, and as such, even if this took place only a few days to a week later, it was last month?

Just once more for the record; No I will not be doing a Ranma/Rogue pairing – it is used too much, so I have grown tired of it.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	9. Book 2 Chapter 06 Overflow

Posted: Sunday 09 September 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Six – Overflow

* * *

Ranma looked around cautiously, taking in every single detail of the room he was in.

It was a large, illuminated lobby, with close to a dozen tiled, sturdy pillars running in two rows towards an elevator and two sets of stairs. Almost every surface of the space was tiled with white or gray polished stone, and the doors at the end of the lobby were metal.

The entrance was standard for modern offices, glass and metal, with a set of two metal detectors set up at a security station that all had to pass through.

Ranma was not wearing his normal clothes, consisting recently of jeans and cotton shirts, but rather dark clothes and boots covered by a black leather coat that would have swept the floor if he didn't stand properly.

The even more unusual thing about Ranma in this case, was his choice in accessories, though the sunglasses weren't really odd.

Guns.

In each hand, Ranma was holding a shiny Mark XIX Desert Eagle with forty-four magnum clips.

Hiding behind the pillars were several heavily armed and armored men pointing their rifles and shotguns at him.

It had been two weeks since the Carnival incident, and every morning since, he had done this. After all, it had been Risty who introduced him to this and she hadn't steered him wrong yet.

"FREEZE!" one of the men yelled in an authoritative tone, accompanied by the cocking of weaponry for effect.

"Let the show begin," Ranma smirked.

* * *

Walking out of the Danger Room the accessories and wardrobe dissolved into cloudy pixels which did not pass beyond the door, returning him to his regular attire. Ranma wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead.

Developing his own kata for Gun-fu had been a strenuous job, but he felt he was getting the hang of it. He would have to return later that day to run the simulation again and see if he was right.

In order to perfect his kata, Ranma had gotten Logan to attain a simulation of the Lobby fight from the movie Risty had recommended he watch. This would allow him to safely develop his skills without the risk of actually being shot at, which was mostly the entire point of the Danger Room, practice without being in mortal peril.

Some kid named "Forge" had apparently been thrilled to make the simulations Ranma had requested and been surprisingly quick about it, somehow managing to make them within a day of the request. According to Logan, the boy was looking forward to more challenges, and was already looking into improving the simulations to make them more real or difficult.

The first few days had been hardly anything but a few evasions followed by his brutal and bloody death, something Ranma hardly thought fair as he was a Master of Anything Goes even if he had yet to be given the title, he should have been able to figure out a way to avoid being hit long enough to reduce the resistance to nil.

He had realized on the fourth day that like all fighting, muscles have to be tensed in order to fire a weapon, even in simulations. This gave him a small edge, as he could predict _when_ someone was about to fire their weapon.

Over the next days, after figuring out that in order to avoid bullets, he would have to see where the attacker was looking and when they were pulling the trigger. Ranma found out that there was a certain pattern to the shooting. A pattern that determined where and when someone would shoot as well as where the attackers would place themselves in relation to him, which made aiming for them less necessary as long as he memorized their position and his movements. He would have to be careful not to rely too much on these statistics, though, because becoming too rigid in one form could result in death or defeat, both of which would be equally bad in a serious situation.

The discovery of the statistical bullet trajectories felt to be on the level of a scientist from the fifteen hundreds discovering a computer with modem connection and a full database of scientific facts and inventions, but like that scientist, there was little Ranma could do with that information without a thorough review of his skills and resources.

It had only been after a week and a half that Ranma discovered that he could make the kata into a dance of evasion and attack; contorting and bending out of the predicted paths of the metal projectiles while removing any enemies from the equation with returned fire or crossfire.

Though he was not going to outright murder anyone that fought him, Ranma had realized that fighting to subdue while his enemies fought to slaughter was not an intelligent thing to do. He had gotten lucky with Saffron, but had ended up killing the demigod anyway. He might not _like_ having to kill, but Ranma knew that no matter how much he tried to avoid such circumstances, they would happen eventually.

This did not mean that even if he trained in Gun-fu, he would rush out to get himself a weapon at the soonest convenience. It meant that should he end up in a battle-zone, he would use what he could find against his enemy. Which was why he was going to further develop the kata to incorporate different types of weapons or objects in his arsenal.

But despite his enthusiasm concerning the development of his new style of Martial Arts, Ranma did not neglect his school work or his Martial Arts Calligraphy. Immediately after school, he would usually do his homework. He would visit the Manor if time allowed, and finish the evening by pondering his difficulty in producing the Gravity Seals he had thought up.

Tabitha Smith aka Boom-Boom had made herself quite at home in the Brotherhood Boarding House, which in turn had the positive effect of drawing attention away from Ranma. This meant he didn't have to wade through all sorts of destruction to get in and out of his room every day.

Unfortunately, it also put some pressure on him, as Tabitha seemed to have gotten a crush on him if the sauntering and flirting was any indication. She would also invade his personal space while he ate, saying that she really shouldn't have whatever he was eating, then snatch a bite anyway. It had gotten to the point where some students of Bayville High were under the impression that they were indeed a couple, which they weren't.

But returning to the present, Ranma was still not satisfied with his progress. Marking his clothes had been several holes and nicks where he had just barely managed to evade the incoming bullets. His timing was off a little, and he needed to fix that.

However, he could contemplate this further at school, because if he didn't hurry, he might be late, something he was sure would be frowned upon.

On his way, he passed the students of the Institute, and exchanged nods of greeting with them, though he exchanged frowns with Scott. After all, he was no longer going to make an effort to remain friends with someone who clearly didn't like him. And Scott still insisted that Ranma was a mutant, even if the tests came back proving that for now, his powers were inactive.

* * *

"-they _fought_ like a team, they _played_ like a team and they _respected_ each other as team mates," Principal Kelly recited solemnly.

During assembly, Ranma felt something off about the entire event.

"And, it's those team mates who unanimously voted their choice for this year's Most Valuable Player Award; Jean Grey!"

The student body cheered enthusiastically, showing not only school spirit, but appreciation for anything that got them out of classes for a while.

Jean, modestly surprised, had stepped onto the stage, and accepted the award, which looked like an oblong octant with the abbreviation M.V.P. printed down the middle, and a female soccer player in gold placed on top.

Risty tried to make her more enthused about the event but Rogue was not very happy, being of the opinion that Jean got enough attention as it was, and probably feeling jealous because of the fame combined with the ability of physical contact with other humans as well as the easygoing manner the redhead had about life in general. Everything seemed to come running to please Jean, or so Rogue seemed to think.

Ranma's guess was that Rogue, who had been very bad at hiding her small crush on Scott, was jealous that Jean had the affection of Scott instead of her.

"Thank you, Principal Kelly," Jean stated with a gracious smile as the man stepped away from the podium. "I want to thank all of you-" Ranma suddenly felt a disturbance and the girl halted with a confused look on her face. "I -eh-"

The disturbance did not seem to affect anyone else, but felt like a brush against his mind being swatted away.

Whether coincidence or as a result of the mental swat, Jean screamed in pain and stumbled back until she knocked over the trophy table behind her, sending all the trophies to the ground and noticeably decapitating the figure on Jean's trophy upon impact.

The telepath recovered almost as soon as her trophy broke, and rather than panic, she picked up the severed golden head along with her trophy and held them up.

"Sorry," she announced sheepishly. "Lost my head there for a sec …"

The joke was a hit, and chuckles spread across the assembly hall.

The only ones to realize something was wrong, were Jean's house mates, Ranma, and the other mutants at Bayville High. But only those who had more contact with her than seeing her in school every day knew this was not something to be taken lightly.

While not overly concerned, Ranma stayed back after assembly.

"Jean," he called to gain the girl's attention before she left.

"Ranma?" the redhead curiously approached, sans the trophy which had been taken by Principal Kelly to display it in the school's display case, or maybe to have it repaired, given the damage done to it.

"What happened during your speech?" Ranma asked bluntly.

"I don-"

"There ya are, babe," called a voice Ranma didn't much appreciate: Duncan Matthews, typical jock and cocky bastard, coincidentally also Jean's boyfriend. "This creep botherin' you?" the blonde boy asked as he put his arm around the mutant girl.

"Excuse me," Ranma replied tersely, trying his utmost not to raise his voice or call out insulting names that were sure to egg on a fight. "We were having a conversation. It is considered rude to interrupt, and ruder still to insult the ones you interrupt. Now, be a good boy and run along while we finish up."

"Ranma, Duncan, stop it," Jean interrupted before Duncan could escalate things to a fight. There was no way the jock could win against the destructive force Ranma was when he was playing, let alone being serious and annoyed. "Ranma, I'm sure we can discuss this at the party tonight. Duncan, stay away from Ranma, I've seen him practice, and he can beat you with both hands and feet tied behind his back without even trying."

"There's a party?" Ranma couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, consider yourself invited, _right_, Duncan?" Jean insisted firmly.

"Whatever," the blonde jock grunted and skulked away with the redhead on his arm. However, he did manage to deliver a parting glare before leaving Ranma's sight.

Shrugging off the glare, Ranma considered the party invitation as he proceeded to his English class.

* * *

For the second time that day, Ranma found himself standing in a familiar lobby, wearing a long coat of dark leather, and holding two Desert Eagles.

Even as he adjusted to the surroundings, noisy shadows flitted behind the pillars of cement, metal and stone and human figures supported themselves on them while remaining mostly covered and aiming various rifles and shotguns at him.

It was unusual for him to train in this manner twice a day, but for some reason, he felt like letting off some steam until he had to leave for the party.

"FREEZE!"

Ranma did not comply with the barked command, and instead raised his guns.

-BAM!-

Two guards on either side of the lobby recoiled, falling backwards like marionettes with their strings cut off, fountains of blood spurting from the new holes in their heads just below the helmet-line, coloring the wall in red.

This action heralded a violent shower of bullets from the comrades of the downed guards.

Instantly moving into his kata as soon as he felt the quickest of them tense their muscles, Ranma managed to evade the hail bullets, making it look like he was dancing around the incoming projectiles. It was enough to make Ranma feel a small sense of accomplishment, but he didn't hold on to the feeling, as such confident thoughts would lead to injury or worse.

-BAM!-

A pair of men with shotguns fell to the ground, holding their trigger hands while trying to hold in their screams and blood-

-BAM!-

Imitating the first two, the injured men slumped to the ground with new cranial orifices, leaking fluids all over the floor.

Dancing around the ongoing torrent of bullets, Ranma made an extra flare with his arms to raise his coat above the predicted bullet path, making himself look somewhat more impressive in the process, hadn't a bullet strayed a mite from its probable path and made a strafing cut in his pants just below his right knee.

-BAM!-

A third pair of men was forced against the wall, where they slumped lifeless as the holes in their heads bled freely.

Bits of concrete exploded as bullets missed their intended target, and dust rose and fell, obscuring the view of the intruder from the guards, but not doing much to hide them from him.

-BAM!-

Twin spouts of blood stained the obsidian wall behind another two men, and the bullet holes in their necks pumped out more blood onto their clothes as they futilely attempted to stem the flow from their bleeding arteries.

Crouching in mid spin, Ranma felt a swarm of bullets passing over head, taking four gunmen out of the fight.

-BAM!-

Damn, miss. Ranma gritted his teeth in irritation as his shots barely nicked the helmets of his targets.

-BAM!-

Mistake corrected.

Spinning back to upright position, Ranma jumped and fired the last bullets of his current clips. One round struck between the plates of Kevlar within the vest, burying it in the man's gut. The second struck a guard's knee, nearly blowing the limb off.

The two injured men stumbled in pain, and sadly ended their lives as they fell into the line of friendly fire.

Reloading his guns as he landed, Ranma stepped into the line of shot of a rifleman and leaned aside, letting the bullet whiz by and impact the wall as he struck the gun with one elbow and the man's torso with a whipping kick, disarming him and sending him crashing into the stone wall with enough force to cave it in around him.

"Three to go," Ranma remarked, doing a quick headcount of his opponents.

Picking one of the men for his next victim, Ranma ran at such speeds that his coat whipped about behind him as though it had been hung to dry on the wing of an airborne fighter jet.

The guard Ranma ran at panicked, seeing what this maniac had done to his comrades, and failed to raise his gun in time for it to be used effectively. At the same time, he was unable to prevent Ranma from jumping and planting both feet in his chest, sending the guard sailing through the air and into the closed elevator door behind him, making a sizable dent and making it impossible for those doors to open in their intended manner.

Simultaneously, the remaining guards dropped to the ground with bloody peepholes running through their skulls.

With a flourish, Ranma returned the Desert Eagles to their holsters hidden under the coat, and brushed off imaginary dirt from his shoulders.

Parts of masonry crumbled from the walls and pillars that had been severely weakened by the countless new bullet holes put in them.

This training had taken less than twenty seconds. Maybe next time he should start unarmed?

"End Simulation!" he called out to Logan in the Control Room. It wasn't as though he enjoyed training in the art of killing, but a situation would likely arise where he would need it.

"Just in time, kid," Logan's voice responded over the intercom. "Scott's about to leave for the party, and agreed to drive you there."

"What did you threaten him with?" Ranma asked knowingly as he exited the Danger Room, everything around him within the room dissolving into pixels, including the coat. The hole at the knee was not given any thought. Boys his age usually found such things a very fashionable addition to any wardrobe, so it was unlikely that a single hole would make anyone think him crude.

"A week of my special morning workouts for the entire school, compliments of him," Logan chuckled.

"Wimps," commented Ranma. He'd been through Logan's Run, as he'd named it, and it wasn't near as bad as many of the insane training methods he'd gone through during the years. Actually, it was very tame by comparison even with the weapons firing lasers and spinning saw blades at the runner. "Well, I'd better get going. Don't want to give Scott another reason to dislike me by being tardy."

With those parting words, Ranma marched through the metal hallways of the underground facility of the mansion to the elevator.

Upon entering the entrance hall of the mansion, Ranma spotted Scott's car parked just outside, without its owner in it, which meant that "Cyclops" hadn't gotten there, and that he wasn't late.

As he was approaching the sports car, Ranma discovered some moisture on the ground.

Feeling mischievous, Ranma subtly used the Soul of Ice to the extent of rapidly cooling the air around him as he came to the car.

He wouldn't get the blame, Ranma knew, because "Iceman" and "Jubilee" were flirting with each other on the other side of the car – and given Bobby Drake's lack of complete control over his frigid powers beyond his attention's focus, it would only be natural to assume that he was responsible for the newly created patch of ice.

True to his prediction, Scott soon came trotting out of the mansion, and started slipping on the ice.

"Whoa- Drake, clean up your ice!" Scott called in a panicked command as he slid and desperately tried to remain on his feet, failing as soon as he came to the car. It was all Ranma could do not to laugh as Scott managed to pull himself into the car, while trying to maintain his composure.

"Ready," Ranma asked in a teasing tone. "Or do you feel like taking another _side_ _trip_ before we go?"

"Shut up, Saotome," Scott grumbled as he slumped into his seat. He clearly wanted to say more, but his behavior reflected on Professor Xavier and the institute, so he wasn't going to do anything that would outright embarrass him. Besides, Logan's threat was still valid, and the last thing he wanted was a week of Logan's training for saying something improper.

* * *

The drive was filled with tense silence, as Scott didn't dare speak for fear of saying something rude and Ranma was enjoying the sound and feel of wind rushing by them.

As Ranma had expected, Duncan's house was clearly not small, nor modest. And it was placed on top of a cliff that had a swimming pool at the bottom and a clear view of the ocean on the eastern short side.

From the number of cars present and the noise coming from the house, the party had already started.

-BOINK!-

Ranma could hardly contain a snicker as a ball bounced off Scott's head the moment they had gotten out of the car.

Scott was instantly on the alert, looking for the enemies that attacked him, while Ranma caught the ball as it was drawn back down by gravity.

"That was very careless," Ranma tsk'ed and tossed the ball into the air before power-serving it in a volleyball style.

The ball zipped back towards the house where it had come from, through the open balcony doors and the satisfying thud of impact against a head cracked a smile on Ranma's face. Of course, Scott would have reprimanded him on misusing his abilities, but the sound of Duncan using profane language to describe his agony was much too amusing.

"Shall we?" asked Ranma mockingly as he indicated the house and festivities. "Or would you like to continue our game of throwing various sports implements at our host?"

Rather than dignify this question with an answer, which might come out wrong, Scott started towards the house.

Smirking at having gotten under the tense teen's skin, Ranma casually followed.

Inside, things were progressing rather calmly despite outwards appearances. The music may have been loud, but hardly anyone danced; they rather stood or sat along the edges of the room and held conversations with each other. Some of the conversational topics may not have been worthy of mention, but most revolved around sex in some way, direct, indirect or by an application of Freudian psychology.

The sole exception to the common behavior was that of the football jocks who had crowded around their leader, Duncan, who rubbed the back of his head in a pained manner.

The jocks were confused about whether they were supposed to be upset about one of their own getting attacked by a ball, or laugh at his misfortune. Most of the half dozen boys settled for barely contained snickers, while trying to assure Duncan that no one was paying him any notice. His image as the "cool-guy" was maintained, or so they said. The only reason no one was looking at Duncan, was because they had noticed the newly arrived Scott and Ranma.

Ranma idly noted that Rogue and Risty left out a side door without having seen him, but didn't call out for them. After all, Risty might get some ideas about what to do to liven things up a bit, which could possibly involve soaking him in cold water to give the guys something to ogle and the girls someone to speak badly of.

As it were, Ranma didn't fit in well with the people inside the house, and soon found himself on the terrace above the cliff and swimming pool. Scott and Duncan had almost immediately started a semi-contest of Ping Pong the moment they saw each other, the contest being mostly what one could call a battle for the position as Alpha Male, but no one really caught on to this comparison to the animal kingdom.

The view was quite spectacular. The near full moon was already out and its reflected sunlight rippled beautifully on the surface of the sea in the cove created near the Institute leading in towards town. The sky was clear and the stars were starting to come out of hiding.

Ranma felt quite comfortable under the stars. After all, they had been one of the few constants in his life on the road with his pops, and it was reassuring to know that they would always be there and never hurt, mock or betray him.

The sudden cessation of the fierce sounds of the Ping Pong ball being hurtled back and forth made Ranma look back towards the insides in time to see an irate Jean stomping outside to cool down.

Ranma was about to call out to her, and let her know of his presence, when the redhead stumbled, grasping her head in pain.

He had gotten a step towards the girl, when Scott came out as well.

"Jean," the bespectacled boy asked with concern. "What's wrong?"

The girl stumbled back and forth a little more until Scott had nearly gotten to her, then she cried out and pressure pushed not only Scott, but Ranma off the terrace.

"JEEEAN!" Scott cried in surprise.

Ranma was cursing himself for not being more attentive to Jean's energy output, so he would have known something was coming, but he prepared himself to land on the water below. He did not want to get wet.

However, mere inches before either he or Scott touched the surface, they stopped.

Suspended in the air, Ranma didn't need to ponder what caused his sudden halt in momentum. Jean was practically hanging off the railing of the terrace, her left hand extended, and her power output indicated conscious use.

Jean's gift of telekinesis was one of the powers Ranma could not truly figure out how worked. The energy output for something like that was massive, more so than anything he could presently afford, and figuring out what needed to be done in addition to concentrating on keeping a perfect flow of energy made the gift one Ranma could not even attempt for quite a while. It vexed him greatly that he could not figure out a way to bypass those obstacles, but he had bigger things to figure out than how telekinesis worked or could be used by him; he still had his Gravity Seal, his Gun Fu style, and he was slowly working on copying the "gifts" displayed by the other mutants of Xavier's Institute.

In the time since the Gymnasium had "collapsed" during the carnival, Ranma had done some experimenting with his clone technique, and come to the conclusion that he would need to be within one kilometer of it for it to remain solid. He had also gotten to the point where he only got a mild headache when the memories of the clone rushed back to him.

He even gave Jamie "Multiple" Maddox a few pointers to controlling the cloning gift, not that the boy followed them.

However, the Gravity Seal still eluded him.

"Jean, what's going on out here?"

The voice of Duncan was not a welcome one-

-Ker-Splosh!-

-because it meant that Jean would have to stop using her gift, and Ranma did not have time to gather and distribute enough energy to keep from breaking the surface of the water before the telekinetic hold on him gave away and dropped the two teens into the pool below.

The blonde teen leaned over the railing to look down at whatever Jean had been watching.

"Hey, Summers! I never figured you for the type to take a moonlight swim!" Duncan laughed after a moment of silence. "And who's the hot redhead?"

Scott looked around and found Ranma calmly treading water next to him.

"If you say something, I'll make sure you'll never have children nor enjoy the process of making them," threatened the now female Ranma in a growl. Scott shivered both from the water and killer intent directed at him. He was far too attached to said bits to risk losing them, so he wisely kept his comments to himself.

The only bright spot in the whole ordeal was that Jean no longer seemed in pain.

* * *

While Ranma was upset with Jean for drenching him the previous night, not to mention the sexual innuendos Duncan dropped concerning the two soaked teens, he didn't let it cloud his mind. He wasn't going to lash out at the girl for her lapse in control.

This resolution was aided by not sharing a class with Jean until Physical Education, where he kept up his refusal to participate in contests with his classmates. Frankly, Ranma was almost insulted at the continued urging for him to either race or jump with his classmates, as though he had no willpower or resolve. Instead, he did these activities alone and with a mock expression of strain as he held himself far below his honest skills. It would scare the _mundane_ students to see his real abilities more than it had already frightened the mutants in the school.

It also surprised him that the PE class consisted of different years, though it was possibly because of the PE coach, Hank McCoy. He was doubling as the Chemistry teacher and as he was not able to be in two places at once, which would have been bound to be necessary with the number of students at Bayville High.

Thankfully, not all years had Chemistry at once, because of the schedule change, so Mr McCoy didn't have to run around much or show up sweaty for class. Though, according to what he had heard from Rogue, Kitty had attended the man's Chemistry class immediately after a PE class, which indicated that there were more than _one_ PE class but still less in number than Chemistry classes.

"Come on, you wuss!" taunted one of the less intelligent boys in Ranma's class as he and his friends jogged by on the tracks.

Ranma ignored the boy and instead prepared for his own turn. Maybe he should aim for a speed just below that of an Olympic athlete just to shut the boy up once and for all. Nah, better to take it slow and do a few extra laps instead.

Meanwhile, he could finish his warm-up Tai Chi and-

"Matthews! Hit the showers!" the stern voice of Mr McCoy called out.

On the other side of the field, Scott was crouched to the ground, feeling around for something while McCoy came up to him and Duncan grumpily left the field. So, their rivalry had made the blonde jock do something petty that got him caught. Interesting.

McCoy handed Scott something; ah, his shades, that explained why he had to feel around for them.

A sudden increase in energy on the field had Ranma stop his warm-up and turn to see Jean kneeling on the grass, hands grasping her head in agony.

Various sports equipment, such as several shot-put balls and a javelin, rose into the air and hurtled themselves around.

The javelin almost skewered the girls on the starting line of the hundred yard dash, and would have if a sudden and violent seismic activity hadn't occurred directly beneath them and thrown them to the ground. Lance was in the stands with his hand extended, and the remnants of energy were his, so it was comforting to know he could do something decent once in a while.

The shot-put balls were next.

One came directly at Ranma, and he stopped it with a flat palm before it could hit his chest as it would have if left unchecked.

He noticed two more were stopped by McCoy in a similar manner, making him wonder about him and made him determined to examine the man later.

The final one nearly took Scott's head off, and would have if he hadn't ducked and blasted it away from its continuing path towards the departing Duncan. The result was a smoldering hot metal ball being propelled through the air in an arch above the blonde boy and a crash of glass as it entered the Principal's office. Thankfully, there were no fatalities, only a great deal of surprise and alarm radiating from the room.

Ranma had dropped the ball and was headed for Jean when for the second time in as many days–

-Splish!-

-water drenched the Japanese teen.

Glaring at the ruptured sprinkler head on the edge of the field, Ranma continued towards Jean, noting that McCoy was surprised at her change in gender. But the man wasn't shocked, which indicated some knowledge of unusual things and abilities.

This was another reason to examine the man later.

Luckily no one else had looked that way, given the wonder at the spear that suddenly appeared embedded into the short wall separating the stands from the track – and surprise at the cannonball that had apparently been fired into the Principal's office.

"We need to get her back to the Mansion!" Scott urged.

"I'll take her," Ranma stated and bent to pick up the cringing redhead. "You follow in the car!"

"You'll never make it that far in time!" argued Scott.

"Watch me," growled Ranma and started her run with Jean draped over her right shoulder.

While nowhere near Pietro's maximum speed or even half that, Ranma was very fast when she wanted to, especially while female. That was the difference between her boy and girl sides. The boy side was stronger and more resilient, while the girl side was faster and more flexible. As such, she would be almost capable of keeping pace with a bullet train while in girl form, and possibly be on par with a race car in boy form.

However, this was not important; getting Jean back to the Mansion without causing too much of a scene and without losing time was the main priority.

To achieve this, Ranma resorted to roof-jumping until she was through the town of Bayville, then tree hopping followed among the tops of the wooded area.

It was only when they got to the wall that Ranma slowed down. It was difficult to decide whether to make this into a job mission or just barge in. She chose to try a mix and gave a super jump over the wall, and landed on the stairs leading to the main doors. It was one of the few places that had no motion detectors when the Mansion wasn't on full alert.

However, Professor Xavier greeted them as soon as Ranma stepped through the door. By what means he used to detect their approach Ranma didn't know, but suspected it had nothing to do with her.

"How is she?" he asked in concern.

"Unconscious," Ranma replied. "She was knocked out from a surge in her abilities during PE … where do I put her?"

"The infirmary," was the immediate answer.

Ranma knew the way, having been there once or twice since she first awoke there after her first day of school at Bayville High, and didn't bother waiting for the Professor to get there before placing the fellow redhead on the examination table.

It was a very sterile room, having all the appearance of being part of a space station, as everything seemed made of metal. Ranma didn't like it there; it felt foreign and cold.

Ranma didn't know, nor care how the elder man managed to get that cumbersome wheelchair up those stairs, but he appeared not long after Jean was on the table.

The bald mutant stopped his wheelchair at Jean's head, and with a serious expression, placed his hands at each side of her head before concentrating.

Ranma knew better than to interrupt someone in a trance, or someone concentrating on something that could be of vital importance for someone else, and sat down along the wall to watch. It was strange. Ranma had expected him to send her from the Infirmary, given that disturbances could be dangerous. Perhaps it was the man's way of saying that he trusted her.

Now that she had time to think, she hoped McCoy would either cover for her absence, or Scott would have cited some emergency that involved her before he took off after them. On second thought, Scott would not do anything for her, considering he probably expected to catch up with them in his car and have the chance to say "I told you so" which was now a moot subject as Jean had been delivered and Scott had yet to-

"Professor!"

-arrive. Damn, she really needed to work on her timing.

Barging into the room, Scott was almost at the table when the Professor gasped and was pushed against the wall by an unseen force, and Scott was soon to follow, involuntarily of course. Ranma didn't feel much, as she was already against the wall of her own volition, but there was a bit of pressure pushing against her like a gentle breeze as opposed to the full storm the others were experiencing.

A tray for surgical tools was thrown around, and other loose items shortly imitated it.

Jean's hair started whipping about in a non-existent wind, and her body rose from the table before the metal surface too was thrown around. Parts of the walls collapsed from the pressure that Ranma didn't feel much of, and the debris had managed to tear off a piece of Scott's gym shirt.

"You need to work on your bedside manner!" Ranma yelled at Scott before grabbing the neck of his shirt and picking up the stunned Professor. It was time for a tactical retreat.

Outside the Infirmary, Logan had arrived and led Ranma away from the damaged room to somewhere they could lay a proper strategy without pieces of construction impacting their heads or the sound of countless items bouncing and scraping off the remaining surfaces of the wing drown out their words.

They entered an elevator, and moments later emerged in the entrance hall, where the rest of the original group of students at this Institute had assembled. Kurt, Kitty and Evan were wearing their X-Men uniforms, and ready for action which was odd, considering things hadn't gotten out of control until moments ago. Perhaps they got home, found no one and decided to entertain themselves with a game in the Danger Room?

"Vhat is going on up there?" asked Kurt. The question was followed by a quake of the building, shaking loose dust and ceiling particles to fall down on them in a drizzle.

"Is Jean all right?" Kitty questioned, clearly upset about not seeing the redhead that lived there.

"No, she's not," Professor Xavier replied, holding his head in a manner that suggested a strong headache. "Her powers are evolving too rapidly for her to control."

Another quake shook the entire building.

"I've got to get back up there!" Scott declared with unwavering determination.

"Yes, because the first time you went up there went so well," Ranma commented and crossed her arms across her chest to spare herself a lecture on feminine modesty due to her shirt not having dried entirely yet, displaying the gifts Jusenkyo gave her.

"Kid's right," Logan chimed in, unconsciously stepping in Scott's path to prevent him from doing something stupid. "We need a _plan_."

"You say there's too much goin' on in Jean's head?" Rogue asked the Professor seriously. At the man's nod, she removed her glove. "Then I'll drain some off."

"It's too much for you," Professor Xavier warned.

"I can handle it!" Rogue protested. "Just let me try!"

"There's too much chaos in her mind," Xavier continued. "What she needs is something to focus on."

Scott didn't waste an opportunity when he saw one, and stepped closer to the girl with the white stripe in her brown hair. "If Rogue can clear her thoughts, then maybe I can get her to focus on _me_!" he suggested.

"We don't have too many options, Charles," Logan added grimly.

Charles Xavier closed his eyes in thought and regret, before he nodded in agreement.

* * *

While he disagreed with the general battle plan, Ranma decided to stick around. They could use his help, and as he had gone to get hot water while they laid the strategy for this confrontation, he had little right to object. Though, no matter. He would do his best to make sure Rogue got to Jean in one piece.

He absently stepped aside as the examination table impacted the ground where he had been standing in the hallway leading from the elevator to the Infirmary.

There, in the middle of the Infirmary, Jean Grey floated nearly two meters off the ground. Debris circling her like a meteor belt around a planet, or like a solar system around a star, her hair whipping around in a non-existent wind, and her face turned towards the sky with a pained expression while her hands were hanging limply from her shoulders.

"I fear we haven't much time," Charles called over the racket caused by the swirling wreckage.

"Clock's running," Scott, currently in his Cyclops costume, declared. "Let's move!"

Ranma did not like being commanded around, but such matters were hardly important in this situation.

Forming a chi shield along his left arm, Ranma led the way into the storm of rubble, batting away small items, while standing firm against larger ones, protecting the string of people behind him.

Scott remained at the entrance of the Infirmary, and focused on shooting down debris before they became a problem.

Evan was a little closer to the others, and did the same with his bone spikes, pinning mid-sized debris to the walls – or what remained of them.

Logan had donned a ridiculous dark yellow and black costume, and spent his time hacking floating pieces of construction, decoration and equipment to bits before they could reach Scott, Evan and the Professor.

Kitty was holding on to Kurt and Rogue, in case Ranma's escort failed, Kurt was there for the same reason and in case Kitty's "Phasing" ability wasn't enough.

Bracing himself and digging his feet in, Ranma stopped a particularly large piece of roof from crushing him and his charges. It took all of his strength and tree-climbing skill to keep it from pushing him backwards.

"Look out!"

Kitty's warning barely sounded over the racket, and barely gave Ranma enough time to look as a group of sharp surgeons' tools came flying at him.

-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-Thud!-

Another Ranma had appeared in their path, blocking the incoming instruments with the examination table.

The clone dispelled immediately after, and allowed the group to continue forward before the table once again became part of the mess floating about the room.

"Told you it was a good idea!" Rogue called smugly at Ranma over the din. It had in fact been her idea for Ranma to make a clone and keep it ready, should he not be as perceptive as he believed himself to be. And though he wasn't about to admit it, he would have been hard pressed to manage keeping the large piece of roof away while at the same time deflect the surgical implements. He could have managed it, but it would likely have been more taxing than making a clone to stand by, not that he'd admit that to Rogue, though. '_Never admit to a woman that you're wrong and they're right, or they'll never let you hear the end of it. Just avoid answering when possible.'_ One of the few words of advice Genma had managed to pass on after Jusendo and for the most part, Ranma agreed.

Finally, the quartet reached the eye of the storm, so to speak, and using Ranma as a base, Rogue was assisted to his shoulders where she had easy access to the exposed arms of Jean's Gym uniform. Kitty held on to Rogue in case some stray piece of wall or equipment came in that far, while Kurt held on to Kitty and Ranma in case Kitty was unable to make them all out of phase.

To make matters worse, there was a form of updraft in the center that barely had them capable of keeping in touch with the ground. Only Ranma was capable of maintaining solid grip on the ground, so now the others weren't just holding on to him in case they had to escape, but because they didn't want to get sucked up the center and outside where they might suffer a painful and instant death by a sudden confrontation with gravity and centrifugal forces.

Strange, really. Before entering the vortex of items, there was no wind, but in the center, it was strong enough to start pulling heavy things from the ground.

"Got her!" Rogue declared an instant before her bare hand grabbed onto Jean's arms.

A surge in power nearly had Ranma losing his concentration, and he barely managed to keep Rogue from being hurled away into the storm of debris by the force.

"JEAN!" Scott called following through with the plan. "IT'S SCOTT! PLEASE LISTEN TO MY VOICE! FOCUS ON IT!"

"Scott? Where are you?"

The voice, though definitely Jean's, didn't come from her floating body; it came from Rogue.

Braving the storm of objects, Scott rushed to the center, where Rogue was being lowered to the ground.

"Jean?"

"Help me, Scott!" Jean's voice called through Rogue.

"I will, Jean, just focus on me!"

"I can't!" Jean's voice desperately groaned, as though struggling just to speak. "I'm losing you!"

"Don't say that! I know what you can and can't do!" Scott argued vehemently. "I know you better than anyone ever can or will! You can do this!"

"Scott?" the dual voice from Rogue and Jean's bodies asked before another flare of power ceased the storm, and dropped Jean to the ground along with everything else that had been floating around.

Ranma was conveniently helping a confused Rogue to her feet directly below at the time, and became an impromptu cushion for Jean's fall.

* * *

Though he wasn't injured by the elder teen girl dropping on him, Ranma didn't feel like remaining at the Manor. He feared that if he remained much longer that day, they would somehow reel him into staying with them, especially after sharing another adventurous event with them and assisted them in the healing of one of them.

"Hey, cutie … where've you been?"

Ranma ignored Tabitha's question as he entered the Brotherhood Boarding House and went to his room.

It had been a stressing few days, and he needed to lie down.

* * *

Author's Notes: I know, the beginning was sort of a tease, but I believe I made up for it later in the chapter.

Sorry for the delay; my muse is currently on strike, so I had to force everything along, something the Union for Collected Inspiration frowns upon and placed all sorts of blocks in my way – this had the added effect of reducing the quality and length of the chapter. Adding to that, I just got my hands on the last Harry Potter book, and could not resist the Siren Song that is the writing of J.K. Rowling (Nor the call of Eric Nylund's Halo 'The Fall of Reach' … or J.R.R. Tolkien's 'The Hobbit' … I'm weak! I can't resist temptation!)

I also apologize for the excessive use of interrupted sentences in this chapter, it can get annoying, and I don't plan on doing it often. But then, man plans while the gods laugh (or is it the women, ah well, probably the same deal, as one seem to have just as much power over men as the other).

And finally, I apologize for following the plot of X-Men; Evolution Season 2 episode 3 "Power Surge" too closely. I tried deviating as much as I could without ruining the center plot or making Ranma replace a character in the plot.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	10. Book 2 Chapter 07 Party Crashing

Posted: Thursday 08 November 2007

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Seven – Party Crashing

* * *

Ranma was bored.

Logan had been gone for days, and thus limited his access to the Danger Room.

Where the gruff mutant had gone, Ranma didn't think it polite to ask, as it sounded personal. But the fact remained that without Logan in the control room of the Danger Room he would have to ask someone else, and the only one he was truly on friendly terms with was Rogue who wouldn't be up at the early hours Ranma had gotten accustomed to starting his kata.

But still, even if he was bored, that didn't mean that Ranma would let time pass him by without some sort of training.

To start off with, he simply performed the Gun-Fu kata, holding his index fingers and middle fingers out to mimic holding a gun to imitate the form and space of the weapon.

When that got tiring, he moved on to figuring out Scott's optic blasts; he was very close to getting it right. There was also a second ability he was trying to figure out, and that was the one that resembled the Henge technique from one of his favorite ninja Anime; the only real-life comparison he had heard of, Mystique's shape shifting ability.

If he could only see it in action once, he might better know how to surpass the hurdles that had blocked his path.

This was followed up by trying to compose some new working seals, or rather, figuring out the Gravity Seal. So far he could increase the weight of the paper by ten times, but not what it was attached to.

School passed lazily, with him only just paying attention to what Rogue or Risty said, enough was understood to keep from having to hear it all over again.

Most of those conversations covered movies, boys, clothes and music. Ranma only paid attention to the movie discussions when they mentioned fighting or explosions, because apart from those things, their taste in movies was rather … well, girlish.

And Tabitha insisted on sitting with Ranma, not even taking his requests for her to leave seriously, much less his attempts at stern glares. Ranma knew rumors were now circulating wildly about the two, some of the jocks had even congratulated him on scoring with her, as they assumed he had done by now given that they lived in the same house without adult supervision. No matter how often Ranma tried to contradict the rumors, the denial didn't take and new rumors started popping up instead.

After he finished his homework, Ranma would continue his regular training and additional tasks.

His technique and seal pondering continued even between classes, where he wrote down notes of his ideas in Hiragana to prevent snooping, and it was as he wandered between classes that he stumbled across Kitty, Kurt, Rogue and Evan in the school hallway. They were acting a little strange, and it wasn't until he got closer that he heard what caused this strangeness.

"While the Professor's away-" Evan started.

"-De kids can play!" Kurt finished as he flipped from a one-handed handstand, and performed a quick jig to emphasize the end of his sentence.

"And play it _loud_!" Kitty laughed and bumped her locker door shut with a swing of her hips and an enthused whoop. This action also revealed Rogue fully to Ranma's view.

"Reality-check, people," the normally sombre girl interrupted. "Scott and Jean …"

"Uh … bummer," Evan sighed in resignation as Kurt and Kitty slumped forward.

"But," Kurt pointed out and perked up a bit. "Vhat are de X-Men, if not problem-solvers, right?"

Ranma shook his head. This was going to be one big mess; something was bound to go wrong, and they would be in trouble.

* * *

"Yes!" Ranma whooped in triumph before hastily patting out the small flames he had managed to ignite on the trunk of a tree inside the Xavier Institute's grounds.

He had finally done it!

After over a week of trial and error, and after having watched Scott in the Danger Room while he used his Optic Beams, Ranma had finally managed to produce a facsimile of that ability.

It may not be very strong; barely strong enough to light a candle in a few seconds, but that was something that could be improved and increased over time and practice!

And the beam was not near as wide as Scott's when he removed all glasses and goggles, being only as wide as the Iris of his eyes, which was appropriate, as the beam was concentrated from behind his retina and fired in a straight line at whatever he was focusing his sight at.

But how he had done it was no longer important, because he had succeeded!

A crash from inside the Mansion brought Ranma's attention back to what he had originally been there for. He was there to make sure things didn't get too out of hand.

He had heard of these kinds of parties, even attended the last one at Duncan's house, and knew that if left completely unattended, the large gathering of teenagers would tear apart any abode they were currently in.

The latest victim sounded like a broken dish.

Not important.

When windows and doors started to get broken, he would move in and shut the party down. By force if necessary, as it wouldn't surprise him if some of the teens had gotten their hands on some alcohol and were a bit rowdy.

Ranma was about to return to practicing his new skill, when a tow-truck pulled up to the gates, and dropped off Scott's car along with Scott and Jean.

The numerous cars parked in front of the Mansion and the loud music pumping from the stereos inside was a dead giveaway to what was going on, and they did not look happy about it.

"Oh, they are so busted!" Jean exclaimed loudly enough for Ranma to hear almost a hundred meters away.

The two had barely taken a single step more towards the Mansion when they stopped in surprise.

Ranma turned to see what had halted them in their tracks, and saw that the defensive metal shielding was lowering or closing together in front of every conceivable entrance or exit.

The Mansion was being fortified!

This was only supposed to happen during a severe intrusion or invasion!

The eyes of the angel statue on the fountain in front of the house glowed red for a moment before a grinding noise was heard and the base of the statue was raised to reveal a dripping wet laser cannon capable of firing a concentrated beam in any three-hundred-and-sixty degrees direction visible to it. The red dot hovering on the ring above the laser turned on and the motion sensor was active.

Not a moment later, the thing fired, forcing Scott and Jean to flee or be destroyed.

Ranma watched as more defensive and offensive weaponry lowered and rose from their hiding places scattered across the grounds, and started firing at anything that moved, which included Ranma who had decided that the best course of action was to enter the Mansion and stop this before anyone was hurt.

As he leaped above one of the many double-barreled energy cannons, Ranma grinned. This could be part of his job; entering the Mansion under full siege mode, and shut things down. Maybe he could buy that leather coat he'd wanted since the first time he tried his current gun-fu simulation.

Speaking of his job, he should probably suggest to his employer that these weapons were much too slow in reaction time. A dead snail could probably react faster, in his humble opinion. They could definitely stand to increase their speed.

A super jump cleared him from the worst of the defenses as it propelled him above their sensors, and like a fly, Ranma attached himself to the wall near a window.

This window was covered by two plates of metal meeting at the middle from the sides, which meant that the exact center would be the weak spot. But explosive force would not be an option, as the metal fragments would without a doubt harm him more than was healthy, even for him.

That left concussive force.

Grinning at the chance to see how much of his strength had been sustained since he came to Bayville, Ranma cocked his arm back, and delivered his balled up fist to the center of the plating.

The results were impressive, and could only have been matched by a wrecking ball the size of his fist with equal weight as a regular one.

The armor dented inwards, the glass on the other side shattered, and the mechanisms involved in moving the plating were torn out, which left them very slack and movable.

Shaking the feeling back into his left hand, Ranma squeezed through the sliver of an opening that he had made, and slunk along the hallway, weary of any active traps or sensors that would give away his presence to any internal defenses.

As he slid along the wall opposite the stairs leading to the ground floor, Ranma was briefly jealous of the ignorance of the teens downstairs. None of them had responsibilities that could lead to fatal injury if only a slight error occurred, beyond perhaps confusing motor oil for cooking oil at their weekend jobs at a local burger joint. And none of them were aware of the danger they were in.

Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, Ranma stopped in front of the elevator doors and pried them open before jumping down the shaft.

A heavy clang and slight shake announced his landing on the cart.

For a moment, Ranma feared the cable would snap from the force of the impact, but nothing happened, so he opened the hatch and dropped in.

Once more prying open the doors, Ranma stepped outside to see Kitty and Rogue pass through the wall opposite him, and Kurt grabbing Evan before he "ported" the two away.

Stepping out of the elevator, Ranma's danger senses went off, a loud roaring rumble reached his ears, and he only had time for an annoyed grunt as he was enveloped in an inferno of flames from both sides.

After several moments of being completely immersed in fire, Ranma walked out of the dying flames, a few patches of clothing and hair glowing with embers before he patted them out.

"Okay, the guy responsible is in for a severe beating," he growled. He had really liked that shirt, and now it had burn marks on it.

It was incidents like that one that made him glad for the Phoenix Pill, and the Soul of Ice. They were the only reasons he survived that inferno without any injuries. The Soul of Ice had cooled down the heat surrounding him, allowing him a small pocket of air so he wouldn't get the flames in his lungs and keeping the cloth close to his skin from being incinerated. The Phoenix Pill made him virtually immune to extreme heat, including fire after the Cat's Tongue technique had worn off.

Saffron's fires had been much more powerful, and he hadn't wanted to chance the ability given to him by the Phoenix Pill at that time. Or rather, he had forgotten about it and fought as he would have without the pill. But he would never admit to that if asked. He had his pride.

Taking a moment to compose himself from any murderous thoughts, Ranma recalled what Logan had shown him of the security in such a situation scenario.

This was DEFCON 1, one of the highest states of alert this place had.

Normal control stations would not work, because there was a chance the base had been compromised, so all control was rerouted to one location: Cerebro.

Cerebro could only be used by authorized persons, and could only be used to its full potential by a powerful telepath.

By deductive reasoning, it would be safe to assume that whomever was doing all of this was in Cerebro, but given that the only persons authorized to put the Mansion in such a state of alert were not present at the time the alarms went off, that could only mean an intrusion had occurred during the party.

Cracking his knuckles, Ranma marched down the corridor towards the large room where Cerebro was stationed. It was time to teach some trespassers a lesson.

The march down the corridor, while not overly lengthy, was not safe for the inexperienced.

First, another set of flamethrowers had emerged from the metal walls, and attempted to roast him, but he had better time to prepare this time, so nothing was burnt, and the flamethrowers were torn from their mechanical arms.

Next, two energy cannons had lowered from the ceiling, and started firing at him. A few side-steps and a double uppercut to the cannons broke the hydraulics they were connected to clean off, and they fell to the ground, inactive. Ranma came away from the experience with light bruising on his knuckles where he had hit the cannons.

A pair of blast doors tried to block his way, but he was too quick for the first, and managed to hold the second open while he passed through the opening.

Thankfully, the operator must have been distracted by the others down there, and forgot about him.

Not a smart thing to do.

As predicted, heavy blast doors barred Ranma's entrance to Cerebro, and this time a simple punch would not do.

Blasting the doors open wasn't an option either, as he might accidentally kill those inside, or they might get past him in the smoke and debris, or he could get torn apart by the shrapnel.

That left cutting through them, a course that left him two options: Iron Cloth or Neko-Ken weapons.

Hearing footsteps rapidly approaching, and several explosions, Ranma went for the least flashy option, and nearly tore his belt apart. It was really more for decoration in his male form and only useful when he changed gender.

In a matter of two seconds, Ranma held his arm downwards so gravity would straighten out his belt, and slashed the belt at the door in a triangle large enough to fit a standing man through.

Just as Jean, Scott, Kurt, Kitty, Rogue and Evan rounded the corner, Ranma pushed the blast doors inwards, and ducked in even though he could have walked fully upright.

The sound of heavy metal falling to the ground made the geeky kid inside turn around from his seat, Cerebro's interface helmet perched on his head.

"I think it's high time someone taught you why it's dangerous to go where you're not supposed to," Ranma announced as he cracked his knuckles dangerously. "Think of this as an Interactive Courtesy Tutorial."

The sounds of terrified squeals followed by a sharp thwack greeted the hesitant X-Men as they lingered just outside, not daring to look inside.

* * *

As the last party-goer's car pulled away, Ranma could not help but feel somewhat smug about the mess the Mansion was in.

This was all on the X-Men's heads. It was their party, their mess. He just crashed it in order to save lives, and to get some extra money to either bet on himself the next time he found a cage or pit fight in town or to buy himself that leather coat.

Gah, his girl side must be infecting his mind if he started thinking about clothes the moment he thought about money.

Still, he'd look cool in it.

Looking across the sitting room, Ranma did a quick tally of the damage.

One sofa was turned completely around and upside down, a fresh tear in the back, and shoe-prints covering it.

The grandfather clock was broken and on its side.

Several busts were shattered on the floor along with several plates.

Tables were overturned.

Crushed, wet paper cups rested on the floor with crumbs of uneaten food that had been ground into the carpet, and several wet stains that one could only hope was the beverage served decorated large areas.

Combined with the damage caused by the DEFCON 1 and the efforts to stop it, it was a small miracle that the Mansion was still standing.

However, Ranma was going to write very firmly in his report that he had nothing to do with the party, and he wouldn't have needed to destroy several blast doors and weapons if this event had not happened.

Sitting on the remaining sofa, the bruised kid, apparently nicknamed Arcade, was moaning and gingerly leaning his face on his hands, careful to avoid putting any weight on the swollen lip and black eye.

The X-Men were attempting to interrogate him.

"I'm sorry," Arcade groaned sadly. Apparently Ranma's lesson in common courtesy had paid off.

"Do you want to tell us what you were doing in there?" Scott asked sternly, standing before the seated kid in an attempt at appearing more intimidating than he normally would. Arcade's mannerisms changed very suddenly, and the repentant expression turned into an excited one.

"Couldn't resist!" he bragged. "Such an awesome Mainframe, man! That game _rules_!"

""Game"?" Jean repeated in surprise.

"Yeah!" Arcade continued. "And the players _rocked_! They had these really cool powers, and-"

"Wait!" Rogue interrupted. "Are you tellin' us that-"

"He knows nothing more," a serious voice butted in from behind the group. Ranma looked sideways to see Professor Xavier entering on his motorized wheelchair. "He believes it was all a computer game."

Ranma groaned. And the lesson had just started to take! Now he had forgotten everything!

"Mr Torque," Xavier continued, addressing Arcade. "Your taxi is waiting outside to take you home."

For a brief moment, Ranma wanted to refresh Arcade's memory of their lesson, but a look from Xavier made him reconsider. This was after all his employer and the owner of this Mansion, so he had the last say in what forms of punishment or reprimand would be given.

Instead, Ranma followed the Institute's residents as they escorted Arcade outside, where they watched the taxi pull away.

Soon, it was out of sight.

Scott glanced at Ranma once before taking half a step forward.

"I accept the blame," he declared. Xavier looked up at him for a moment before returning his sights to where the taxi had disappeared.

"I'd say there's plenty of blame to go around," the old man admitted. Ranma felt this was a mite unfair, as he had done nothing to be blamed for. "Even extending to our mystery guest …"

"You mean Arcade?" asked Jean. Xavier wheeled forward a little to get a better look at the grounds.

"No," he disagreed. "Someone else … someone who orchestrated all of this; including my trip away, just to gain access to the Mansion."

"So now it's up to us to find out who it was," Scott concluded. Ranma rolled his eyes at the boy's do-right routine. However, as he did so, he caught a gleam of light reflecting off something atop the gates. It was gone the moment he returned his sight to examine it.

"And what they were after," Xavier finished.

* * *

Author's Notes: Sorry that the chapter was a bit short; as I've explained in my profile, my muse is currently on strike, so it's difficult to churn anything out.

Also, it should again be noted that Ranma's opinion of himself is far from humble, and as such, when he means something is as slow as a dead snail, it is actually moving quite fast, but not entirely as fast as him. Any normal person would have to give it their all to avoid anything Ranma feels is as slow as stated in this chapter, while Ranma will only have to move a little under half of top speed.

To further hinder my efforts, I've been combating a slew of spyware, Trojan virus and such for the last week. The battle is far from over, and may result in the need to format my drives. As such, I have taken then precaution to make some backup discs (8 DVDs) of my most vital personal files.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, and inserting a few missing words.


	11. Book 2 Chapter 08 The Animal Within

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Eight – The Animal Within

* * *

The day had started well, Ranma considered as he looked out the car window.

Logan had returned a few days earlier, and decided to add a few elements to the Gun-Fu simulation; snipers and mines. It became really challenging to avoid not only direct assault from ground forces, but unseen enemies and traps as well, and Ranma loved it! He had managed to get through the simulation without tripping more than two mines and getting a shallow cut where a bullet grazed his thigh that day.

Things had gone south the moment he set foot on school property.

He was met at the entrance by Principal Kelly, campus security, and a police officer.

For some reason, they had grounds to suspect that he was hiding something highly illegal in his locker, and as per protocol, they had to inspect it. Law required that Ranma be present to open the locker.

Ranma, knowing well that he had nothing to hide in the locker, preferring to keep his things tucked away in stuff space where no one else could get to them and so never used the locker assigned to him, cooperated with the authorities in opening his locker door

The insides of the storage compartment looked almost like a shrine to Anti-Western Civilization, propaganda leaflets detailing the horrors inflicted on the world by the white man, newspaper clippings of mass murder on Europeans and Americans, everything of this was taped and glued to every surface of the locker, a "plan" detailing a possible siege of the school was carefully folded in a corner and in the middle lay a loaded Charter Arms Bulldog.

This was the reason for him sitting in the back of a police car, staring out the window as Bayville passed them by.

He had originally been in handcuffs, but they had broken apart when he sneezed and accidentally pulled his hands apart further than the chain allowed. To keep from alarming the officers while driving, Ranma held his hands close together, and remained calm. He would inform them of the malfunction when they stopped.

* * *

While the police officers had nearly panicked when Ranma shared the news of the broken handcuffs, his willingness to cooperate, and lack of resistance kept them from resorting to violence to subdue the teen. They replaced the broken handcuffs with a new pair that Ranma made a point of being mindful of so he wouldn't tear those apart as well.

Because of his recent arrival in the country, Ranma thought he would not need to dirty his fingers with prints. However, the police felt they needed verification that he was the same who had given his thumb and index finger prints in customs at the airport.

After having his prints taken, a process during which Ranma had to restrain his strength even more as they wanted him to press down hard to give a good print. Had Ranma pressed down hard, the table plate would most likely have collapsed where he pushed, so to keep from aggravating these people more than necessary, Ranma restrained himself to what a normal teenager would use for a firm amount of pressure.

Ranma was then taken to a holding cell, where he was introduced to a few bald men with tattoos and sub par hygiene. Despite their appearance, these men were very nice, and helped Ranma pass the time until his "interview" with a game of poker. Despite his horrible poker face, Ranma managed to end up with several IOU for the near total sum of a hundred dollars. The men had thought he was a good actor trying to fool them by making his expressions obvious, and had been determined not to fall for it.

"Where did you get that gun, kid?" demanded a nicely dressed police officer, who had removed his jacket to reveal his shoulder-holster. Ranma assumed this was supposed to be intimidating, but after being exposed to the awesome killing intent of so many enormously powerful beings in his life, it had no effect on him whatsoever.

"I never saw that gun, or even touched it," Ranma repeated. "In fact, I've only ever opened that locker twice, once when I got it, and for the inspection today."

"I don't buy it, kid," the officer barked. "If that's the case, where do you keep your books, your gym clothes or your lunch?"

"It is excellent exercise to carry them around," Ranma retorted. "I like to stay in shape."

"Hah! Your actions and record disagree with you," argued the officer. "It says here that you refuse to participate in any sport, and that you do everything alone in your gym period, refusing to compete with others."

"Because it would be unfair to them to be compared with me," smirked Ranma.

"Go easy on the boy," interrupted another man calmly from a corner of the room.

Ranma almost laughed. This must be the "good cop - bad cop" routine he's heard about through the media.

"Why don't you tell us what you think happened, Ranma?" asked the fully dressed and calm man. "It's alright if I call you Ranma, isn't it?"

"Sure," Ranma agreed to both questions. "I believe that I have been framed, unjustly accused while evidence has been planted to get me into trouble."

"Is there anyone who would do such a thing, that you know of?"

"Sure, there's one kid in school who threw a temper tantrum when I arrived, can't recall his name, though."

"This is all a load of bull!" argued the jacket-less officer. "He's guilty and he knows it!"

"The only thing you've _proven_ so far is that I don't want to compete with kids my age," Ranma countered. "Have you checked the gun for prints? I know that you won't find my prints on it, since I have never touched that weapon."

"Are you telling us how to do our jobs?" demanded the 'bad cop' angrily.

"You should calm down," Ranma insisted. "If you keep elevating your blood pressure needlessly like this, you'll give yourself an embolism and drop dead before you reach fifty."

"And now you're my doctor?" sneered the first officer.

"You know, you should cut down on your smoking," the second officer butted in. "And it wouldn't hurt to switch to healthy food stuffs instead of fast food."

"And that bulge on his shirt pocket looks like a flask," added Ranma. "Perhaps he has a drinking disorder?"

"Frank! The Chief already warned you once about drinking while on duty!"

"This isn't about me!" objected Officer Frank hotly.

"Why do you say that?" Ranma chided in a sympathetic tone. "Don't you feel important enough to be the topic of conversation?"

"He's right, you do appear a tad reclusive," added the second officer. "You know, my sister doesn't get out much, how about I set-"

"STOP!" roared Officer Frank, pounding the table with his fists.

"And now we're back on the rage issue," sighed the second officer.

"Can we get back to the interview?" demanded the irate Frank. "I'm not the one who's supposed to answer questions!"

The door to the Interrogation Room opened, and a bespectacled man with mussed hair sauntered inside, glancing at a sheet of paper. "Oh, still here," he exclaimed in mild surprise. "I thought you usually had the kids crying for their mummy while confessing at this point …"

"What do you want, Alfie?" growled Frank, not taking his eyes off Ranma, who was starting to get amused with the goings on around him.

"Just came by to deliver the forensic report on the gun," Alfie announced lethargically. "It has not been touched by Ranma Saotome, and it isn't registered in our list, which means it hasn't been used in connection with other crimes."

"He could have wiped his prints off!" argued Frank heatedly.

"Only if he had twenty others handle the gun after him. That's how many partial and complete sets of fingerprints we found on it. There's no doubt the gun is 'hot' and sold from less than reputable people, but it hasn't been handled by our suspect here."

"Does that mean I'm free to go?" asked Ranma, relieved that they had solid evidence to confirm his story.

"For now," Frank grumbled. "But if the true culprit is found, we will have to call you in as a witness, so don't plan any lengthy vacations or we'll have to arrange a less pleasant one for you."

"You know where to get me, if there's anything you want," Ranma returned. Head held high, Ranma strolled out of the Police Station.

* * *

"Suspended?" exclaimed Ranma incredulously.

"Standard procedure for students caught in possession of weapons, only two suspensions for this type of situation, and you'll be expelled," cited Principal Kelly's secretary strictly. "It doesn't matter that the Police found you innocent of the charges against you, it was still your locker, thus it was in your possession. Be thankful it's only a week, normally it's nearly a month."

"But what about my education?" Ranma demanded, though he didn't believe anyone from Nerima would have remained conscious after him asking such a question.

"You can still study on your own, and we can have someone deliver your homework to you," the secretary droned and proceeded to ignore him.

Ranma grumbled about how miserable his day was as he departed the office, and as he had no other plans for the moment, he decided to take his frustrations out on his simulation. Frankly, he didn't care if Logan added giant mutant lizards to the simulation, as long as he got to pound the tar out of it.

As it happened, the bell rang before Ranma was outside, and he got to endure the further aggravating experience of having his fellow students shunning him, obviously only having heard what happened that morning and not the end results.

It would do no good trying to convince everyone of what had taken place, especially with his suspension. Best to let it pass, and if asked, tell them the truth and not expect to be believed.

After having passed through the corridors, Ranma was finally outside, and made good use of his speed and strength to leap away before anyone from inside thought to follow him. The last thing he wanted was to be berated or supported by people who had no experience being wrongfully accused for something serious.

During his run, Ranma contemplated his situation.

True, he had been humiliated and falsely accused but it would be nothing compared to what the true culprit would have to endure, and he had a suspicion of who was responsible. Ranma was fairly certain the principal had an idea as well, and if he worked with the police, then that Ewing kid would be caught any day.

"What 'cha doin' here this time of day, kid?" grunted Logan from behind his bike, which he was in the process of maintaining, as the grease stains on his hands and face clearly indicated.

"Got suspended," Ranma grunted back and plopped onto the ground on the other side of the bike. He still felt like tearing something apart, but perhaps the garage wasn't the best place to start. "Someone planted a gun in my locker, and even if I was proven innocent by the police, I was still technically in possession of an illegal weapon, and was suspended for a week."

"That's tough," Logan agreed. "Could you hand me that wrench over there?"

"Which one?"

"The one covered in stains."

"Recent stains, dry stains or blood stains?"

"All of the above," Logan barked. "Before you ask more silly questions, the one on the left."

"So … any chance of letting me into the Danger Room to work out some frustrations?" Ranma ventured carefully. It never worked out well asking favors from an annoyed person.

"Not for a while," Logan hissed as his thumb got caught between some rotating parts. "How 'bout you make yourself more useful? Take that red dirt bike over there apart. Don't _tear_ it apart or break it, and place each part separately on the ground in the order you took them apart. It's due for maintenance, what with how the crazy kids around here handle it …"

Ranma didn't really want to do this, but figured that it was better to keep his friend happy than complaining and making his temper worse.

Picking up the bike, Ranma took it to a more open space inside the garage, and set it down.

Staring at the vehicle for a minute, Ranma realized: "Where do I start?"

* * *

Much to his surprise, Ranma found that taking something apart, cleaning it and putting it together was immensely relaxing. However, he found himself etching seals into each metal part he had finished cleaning, even if he hadn't intended to or even given it any thought.

Resilience and cleanliness. It was interesting that he should have subconsciously etched those in. They'd need some embellishing to be functional, though.

"Hey, mind if I improve these things?" Ranma asked. The etchings could be hidden as mere scratches from heavy use, so there was no real concern of his tampering being discovered unless he confessed.

"If you think you can," Logan grunted and took a swig from a can of beer before returning to the maintenance of his own bike. "Just don't do anything you'll regret later, like breaking parts."

With a confident nod, Ranma returned to the metal parts he had spread out before him, and started etching the final components of the seals into the nut he was holding at the time he discovered what he was doing.

For the purpose of etching, he was using a toothpick, which he had originally been using to gouge out gunk from crevices, cracks and sharp folds. Though unseen by the naked eye, the tip was infused with ki, and this made it act almost like a soldering iron or engraver, effortlessly cutting into the metal and leaving behind a shallow design.

Ranma had finished etching half the parts of the bike with the two seals when Scott and the rest of the X-Men arrived from school.

"What are you doing here?" Scott challenged coolly.

"I'm cleaning my bike," replied Logan from behind his motorcycle. "What else does it look like?"

"Not you, Wolverine," Scott corrected. "Saotome, what are you doing here?"

"Helping Logan clean a dirt bike," Ranma replied casually and sat down the part he had just finished. "I find it very therapeutic to do this. Though I'd still prefer to run through a few simulations. But as Logan isn't about to leave this for my benefit, I'm adapting."

"I mean after what was revealed today, how dare you show your face here?" Scott growled, annoyed at having to elaborate.

"If you had bothered to find out the full story, you would have discovered that I was wrongly accused, and only suspended because though the gun wasn't mine and never entered my sight until today, it was still in my possession as it was found in my locker based on tips from an unnamed source. Now, is there anything else, or can I get back to finishing this thing?"

Scott glared at Ranma and skulked inside, followed by the confused X-Men, though the girls seemed to have caught on to what had happened faster than the boys had, and sent Ranma a few looks of sympathy before going out of eye shot.

Ranma, for some reason felt rather aroused with the thought of what could be obtained through sympathy.

And the fact that the girls' clothes almost looked painted on did nothing to help his control.

It wasn't often his teenage hormones surfaced, and when they did it was usually only for a short while until he got them under control. But while they lasted, plenty of indecent fantasies ran through his head. There was the infamous time when Kasumi had been around during one of these bursts of hormones, and Ranma nearly crashed his head through the wall as he jerked away from the sight of her bending over to pull something out of the oven. He had to pretend he'd seen a cat through the window to cover for himself, though Kasumi seemed to have a sly smirk on whenever they were alone since.

"Keep it in your pants, kid," Logan commented, switching to Japanese and tightening the last nut on his bike.

"Huh?"

"You know Rogue's powers can't be controlled, so don't try to score out of sympathy or anything, these kids are my responsibility while they are here," Logan continued.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ranma sputtered, responding in Japanese in response to Logan starting it.

"Sure you don't," Logan drawled. "Whatever, just make sure that you have protection if you try anything with the other girls, and I don't mean just prophylactics. I've seen what they're capable when angered, it ain't pretty."

"What on earth made you think-"

"I've got a great sense of smell," Logan reminded him. "And don't forget it."

"Oh …"

"Yeah," Logan agreed. "What are ya doin'?"

"Something I learned back home," Ranma explained and dropped one of the finished nuts into a can of oil, before pulling it out. Ranma's hand and fingers were covered in the thick fluid, but the nut was sparkling clean. "If all things go according to design, these things will never need another cleaning, or replacement parts. Now if I could only do the same to myself, I wouldn't need to wash this stuff off; it'd just slide away."

"You could tattoo that design onto yourself, couldn't you?" Logan ventured.

"No, too dangerous putting it on living creatures. Sweat glands being blocked and causing fevers and hot flashes that could kill you, or something like that. I never really went into it after figuring out the first few side effects."

"Sounds nasty," Logan grunted and puffed on his cigar as he lit it, making sure to keep the flame well away from Ranma's oily hands.

"Yeah," Ranma agreed. "But that's only for cleanliness seals and others of their ilk … and as for tattoos, if I were to paint a face on your stomach in a certain way, using the art of Seals, I could make you invincible for as long as the expression on that face wasn't frowning, in which case you'd get knocked out and lose the seal. No amount of scrubbing, washing or other things could have removed it. I'm currently working on a seal to increase my weight as though I was living under stronger gravity, for strength exercises, but can't figure out how to apply it to the entire body yet."

"Don't give up on it," encouraged Logan. "You should always have something to strive for, keep you goin'."

"I know what you mean," Ranma agreed. He had always gotten the farthest when he had a goal in mind, like defeating someone who had beaten him at something.

"Maybe one of those things to strive for should be learning how to handle yourself on a vehicle?" Logan mused and eyed the dismantled bike. "Makes you stand out less if you drive along the road instead of leap from tree to tree."

"I don't know … seems so useless …"

"No such thing as useless knowledge," Logan barked in a laugh. "Better to have it and never need it, than need it and not have it, after all. That same rule goes for condoms, by the way …"

"Are you trying to live vicariously through me, or something?" Ranma demanded.

"Don't need to, kid," snorted the gruff mutant. "When I turn on the charm, no woman can resist me. And my ability makes me very popular with the ladies, because when I promise them 'all night long' I mean it! Point is, should you be faced with a situation where you need one, it's always better to have protection and not land yourself in a mess you never wanted."

"I guess …" Ranma responded, not sure how to react to this information.

"Good, I'll teach you how to drive tomorrow. You've got an entire week, after all."

"Can't I just join the lessons you give the 'X-Men'?" Ranma cringed, not really wanting to learn how to drive, and not really looking forwards to his own suggestion.

"Kid, there's a difference between learning to drive, like the others, and learning to _drive_," Logan informed him. "They learn the standard version, I thought you would be ready to jump straight to the advanced version where you learn to do things with a vehicle that you can hardly believe possible, almost like your Gun-Fu, only with any kind of vehicle."

"And you know how to do this?" questioned Ranma sceptically.

"Only with the bike, car and jet … but we can improvise on the rest. What do you say?"

Grinning in excitement at learning something new, something that sounded infinitely cool, Ranma slapped his hand into Logan's outstretched one and practically shouted "IT'S A DEAL!"

* * *

Immediately after the deal had been made, Professor Xavier was told of the plan, and the duo was about to leave when the older man asked Ranma to endure another test. Apparently, this was a very stressful situation and Ranma's X-Gene might have activated, and in that case it would be best if he was aware of it so he could look out for signs of what his power might be, as well as keep it from harming others.

As it turned out, what Ranma had gone through wasn't all that stressful. His mutation remained dormant.

It was on the way to the flight simulator to familiarize Ranma with its controls that there was someone at the door, and Kitty was the one to answer. Just before he was out of range, Ranma heard the voice of Mr McCoy asking to see Professor Xavier.

"Why are we starting with flight, anyway?" Ranma asked as they entered the room where the simulator was placed. It looked like the fuselage of a private jet, rigged to pitch and tilt according to the controls, like a "ride simulator" found in an amusement park only at the mercy of the pilot inside and with far better graphics.

"Because learning to drive a ground vehicle or boat will be much easier after learning to fly an aircraft," reasoned Logan.

"Then, why make a separate simulator for this?" Ranma couldn't help but wonder. "Wouldn't it be simpler to get the Danger Room to create a simulation than to have two different types of simulators?"

"Never thought of that," Logan admitted. "I'll take it up with Xavier later, see if that kid, Forge, can help think of a solution. For now, we use this one."

"Fair enough," Ranma agreed. After all, if those undisciplined kids could do it, then it couldn't be that hard to learn.

* * *

At the end of the day, Ranma felt he had to bite his tongue if he had uttered his opinion of how simple flying would be if the X-Men could do it. There were so many buttons, switches, knobs, gauges and lights he had to memorize and know the function of that it would probably be more difficult than learning Martial Arts Calligraphy!

Though, Ranma had to admit, it would be useful to be able to use those types of transport if he needed to cross vast distances and oceans. Though, he doubted they'd let a civilian pilot an airplane without a license, and those things were expensive. And so would any other vehicle be in both acquirement and maintenance. Professor Xavier must be immensely rich to be able to afford the many vehicles, property and repairs in addition to food, water and electricity used by his numerous students.

The steering of the aircraft was no problem at all, Ranma actually enjoyed changing the directions and performing small stunts he really shouldn't. It was all the gadgets and such that got him confused. It made him realize why there were so many pilots aboard those large airplanes; one person couldn't possibly have been able to keep it all under control.

Still, it was great fun, and even after three uncontrolled landings Ranma still felt like going back for more. That speed and defiance of gravity was exhilarating!

"Yer a natural pilot," Logan complimented as Ranma jumped out of the simulator after his fifth crash. "May not be much for landings yet, but for your first day, you did well."

"I'd still like to do the real thing, instead of inside a machine," Ranma commented. Sure, he could leap hundreds of meters in a single bound, and redirect himself mid-air, but at best that was just 'falling with style'. Flying like a bird would have been great.

"Closest thing I know of to that would be an ultra-lite airplane. Saw MacGyver build one once …" Logan pondered.

"MacGyver?" questioned Ranma sceptically.

"Hey, it worked, and people can build them on their own even if they can't fly them without the approval of various government factions, for _safety_, of course."

"I'll think about it," Ranma sighed. "I'd better get back now, it's getting late and I don't want to be late for my morning training. Just because I'm suspended doesn't mean I have to be lazy."

"Never expected you to be," Logan agreed. "Though the kids here really lack that gusto. In your place, most of them would have sat around moping for days."

* * *

Ranma was quite disturbed with how his housemates reacted to the rumors most likely started from his "arrest" the day before.

They approved.

For some reason, based on those rumors the Brotherhood now thought of Ranma as one of their own.

Tabitha had actually managed to tackle him as soon as he came in the door, kissed him soundly, and declared that it was an unfair apprehension and she'd get back at whomever was responsible, and the police if they didn't let the case go. The glowing sphere the size of a medicine ball spoke volumes of what she'd do.

"Unfortunately, we have to break up," the blonde sighed wistfully. "I can't date someone in the police's spotlight. But we can still be friends!"

With a last sound kiss, the slim girl veritably skipped back to her room, leaving a confused Ranma behind to be congratulated by the Brotherhood on getting arrested and freed.

"Even if you're not a mutant, you're okay," Toad announced. "Anyone who does that and gets away with a slap on the wrist deserves all the praise they can."

Ranma didn't have the heart to disappoint them, yet. When he did, it should have more of an impact, the kind that can only be gained through time, rooted in belief.

The next morning, Ranma returned to the Mansion, and went through his gun-fu kata, now with Bouncing Betties triggered by the falling soldiers added in.

Ranma had trouble dodging the fragments from those things, as they were too random, and as a result he came out of the Danger Room with several shallow cuts where the shrapnel had grazed him. Thankfully there was nothing more serious than the equivalent of a paper-cut to a normal person and by the end of the day there wasn't any trace of his injuries other than tiny rips in his clothes.

"So, you want to try to improve your flight simulation, or maybe help me by doing to my bike what you did to that dirt bike yesterday?" Logan asked as he met the teen.

"I could do both," Ranma grinned. Then remembering that Logan had put the dirt bike back together, added: "But I might need some sort of assembly instruction to put everything back together in the right order …"

"No problem," Logan declared around his very recently lit cigar.

After Logan returned with a book detailing every part of a standard motorcycle and their uses, configuration and properties, Ranma made a clone of himself and sent it off with the book, to take Logan's most treasured possession apart.

"Forge is working on making a simulation program for the Danger Room," Logan commented as they marched down the hallways. "Might take a few days, though so you might as well make yourself comfortable learning in the flight simulator until then. At this pace, it might take you about a month to manage everything perfectly-"

"I'll master this within a week!" Ranma announced confidently. "Ranma Saotome never loses! Especially not to a machine!"

"Wanna make it interesting?" grunted Logan.

"Like a bet?" Ranma asked. "Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"If I win and you can't come through on your mastery inside a week, you help me beat some skills into my students for a month. If you win and manage to master machine flight in less than seven days, I'll personally get you your first hog."

"Why would I want a pig?" Ranma frowned. "It doesn't sound like much of a deal."

"A motorcycle," Logan chuckled. "Any design you want, old or new. And should you win the bet, I'll also help you customize it. So, is it a bet?"

"Not sure," Ranma hesitated.

"Afraid you'll lose?" goaded Logan.

"No, I'm an exchange student," Ranma countered. "How would I get it back home after I finish my studies? Exports and shipping alone would probably nearly match the cost of the bike!"

"If that's all, I'll fly it over for you when the time comes," Logan brushed off. "We've got a couple of jets stashed away. Why else do you think we would need the simulator?"

"In that case, you've got a bet," Ranma announced confidently. "I might not need a bike for the short distances I usually travel, but it might be nice to have something to fall back on if I'm sick or tired."

"Don't rev the engine until you've got the bike," Logan warned. "There's still the bet to be done. If you can't perfectly control a plane in seven days-"

"Hey, there's only six days!" Ranma objected. "I had a lesson yesterday, so that counts as well!"

"Sorry, slip of the mind," Logan apologized and opened the door to the flight simulator. "In those six days, you must be able to land, take off, taxi, and handle emergencies ranging from engine failure and fuel shortage to attack by hostile forces both internal and external."

Looking at the fuselage he was about to become even more familiar with, Ranma grinned at the challenge he had accepted. "Piece of cake."

* * *

It was later in the day, as Ranma was running through his gun-fu kata to wind down from the ten crashes he had managed before his first acceptable landing, everything froze.

At first he thought he might have somehow exceeded his normal speed magnificently, but as nothing happened for several long seconds of standing still, Ranma knew there was something wrong and it wasn't inside the Danger Room.

Dashing quickly from the Danger Room, Ranma soon found himself entering the control room of the Danger Room, where all the X-Men were gathered in front of a TV screen showing the local news.

It seems Mr McCoy was a mutant, and now the whole world knew that he was some kind of monster, having torn out doors, sinks and broken down walls at Bayville High to run rampant through town.

The X-Men were getting ready to pick up the rogue mutant, and Ranma was actually tempted to join them. But that would be seen as taking sides in this little gang war Xavier told him about. Well, if he went after McCoy himself to make sure the man wasn't a threat and happened to cross paths with them, then it couldn't be said he was joining the X-Men.

Quickly getting the directions, Ranma rushed out to find the mutant before the government officials did. If the general public was told of mutants, there would be no end to how much trouble it would cause not only for him but all who possessed the mutant gene, active or inactive.

* * *

Tracking Mr McCoy was not all that difficult. Ranma, having experienced the need to hunt and being an exceptional Martial Artist could find clues to where the gorilla-like mutant had gone.

The reason Ranma knew the approximate form of McCoy's changed body was simply because he had caught a glimpse of him as the mutant rushed into a dark alley before the police came rolling by in their squad car, shining their lights everywhere.

The police was also the reason Ranma lost sight of McCoy. After the debacle he had been through recently, he didn't want to be taken notice of by the authorities, and kept out of sight, which was surprisingly easy while hanging upside down from a malfunctioning street light.

Twice he had to duck out of sight to avoid letting the X-Men know he was also tracking McCoy.

At one point he was forced to hide from the Brotherhood, who had gone out to buy their cheap, tasty, greasy fast-food suppers.

Eventually, Ranma managed to find McCoy heading into an amphitheater that seemed to be closed for the season.

One of the X-Men had already found the place, but Ranma was sure it had not been through superior tracking skills. Spyke somehow knew McCoy would move to that amphitheater.

The moment McCoy leaped out of hiding to pounce the naive boy, Ranma dropped from the ceiling and stomped him into the ground before Spyke could be harmed.

McCoy growled bestially and lunged at Ranma, who had jumped away as soon as the blue man was on the ground.

Ranma charged and locked hands with the beast, his cat side peeking out for the first time in a long while, determined to show this creature who was the Alpha by overpowering him at his own game.

Over the growling, snarling and scraping generated from their struggle on the concrete stage, Ranma was dimly aware of Spyke reciting Shakespeare. It struck him as very inappropriate for the situation, but didn't last long as Wolverine came careening out of nowhere, tackling the blue beast Ranma was having a power struggle with.

Yowling in an eerily similar manner to an angry tiger, Ranma leaped after the now battling adults. This elder feral creature was not going to prove his dominance before him!

Thankfully for all involved, the feline Ranma saw no need to become truly vicious, so no claws were summoned. However, with his renewed determination, Ranma tackled the two adults, and sent the three through several decorative concrete pillars before pinning them both against the ground with his hands at their throats while growling menacingly.

Through it all, Spyke kept loudly reciting Shakespeare.

Of the two captive adults, only Logan realized that struggling would lead to harsher treatment. True, with his healing abilities, and adamantium skeleton and claws, he would likely escape any injury Ranma could inflict with only a few minutes required to go back to normal, but it'd hurt like a bitch. But that didn't mean his ego would allow him to simply act meek, no, defiant scowling was still involved.

McCoy, however, thrashed about in Ranma's grip, cracking concrete and scratching the boy up with his claws, trying to escape. Ranma only frowned and made a snarling grimace in response to the injuries, then tightened his grip on the blue beast. Eventually, he'd black out from insufficient oxygen or have his massive neck crushed.

The feral Ranma was very surprised when the big furry one went slack, and he himself was launched away by some invisible force.

Ranma landed nimbly on the wall and glared up at the newcomers.

Logan, though his ego would most likely be smarting for days, said something to them all, and lowered his gaze from Ranma's direction and slackened his posture.

The others followed his example, though Scott hesitated for several long seconds before complying.

Satisfied that he had showed them who was Alpha, Ranma puffed his chest and took off. He could wait a while in claiming the females. For now, it was time to rest.

* * *

The next morning, Ranma returned to the Mansion, his old self and rather embarrassed at what he had done in the heat of battle. He theorized to Logan that it was a side-effect of not being in contact with his feline side as much as he should, and it acted out when it sensed something that could be taken as a fight for dominance. Professor Xavier had wanted another round of tests to confirm that what they had seen the night before had not been some part of an active mutation, but Ranma had explained in detail the events that led to him getting a feral side. He left out the weapons he could form with this ability; he needed some tricks up his sleeve and telling about them openly was a sure way for a potential enemy to hear of them.

He did apologize to Logan for his rough treatment, though.

"No problem, kid," Logan grunted. "Just don't let it happen again, ain't my style to surrender like that."

"I'll do my best," Ranma agreed. "How is McCoy doing?"

"Recovering," said Logan and opened the door to the simulator. "Which is what I want to say about this thing. You'd better get a grip on this before the week is out if you want to win."

"It's as good as done," grinned Ranma.

* * *

Author's Notes: I am not entirely informed of the rules, regulations and laws concerning the discovery of concealed weapons or firearms in a school, only the basics, and threw in a few common sense logical deductions. I've discussed this on The Fanfiction Forum, and got plenty of good tips on the subject, but if you are an authority on this, please send me a message with the correct information.

I know I've strayed to a strange area with Ranma and Logan's discussion about intercourse, but honestly, if the series wasn't meant for children and young teens, then they would definitely have included something like it in canon. It is also another sign of not directly copying everything that happens in the series. Besides, that is the sort of thing that Logan would brag about, according to Ultimate Marvel modifications (which is the marvel universe I find the most appealing, by the way).

I also know that I should have left it off after the amphitheater, but I felt compelled to write a little further. Don't worry, neko-Ranma won't make an appearance too often.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	12. Book 2 Chapter 09 Interesting Situations

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Nine – Interesting Situations

* * *

Snow had fallen on Bayville, and almost everyone seemed to enjoy the holiday-like feeling that accompanied it. Unfortunately for the children of Bayville, the city was prepared for such an event and the roads were all cleared over night, so there was no Snow Day for them to enjoy free of school.

Among those who did not enjoy the freshly fallen frozen, crystallized flakes of water, Ranma stood out.

Because of the overabundance of snow blanketing the landscape, Ranma had to take a few extra minutes to get anywhere, as not even a foot out of the door, some snow would find a way through his clothes, and change his gender from male to female.

Ranma's teachers were not happy with him showing up just after the bell, but as it stood in his records that he had a strong reaction to cold water, and winter was upon them, they could not fault him for needing to wait out the effects before showing up in class. One or two actually suggested he take the winter off, study at home and have someone turn in his assignments so he didn't have to brave the cold snow and risk his health.

This suggestion did not go over well with Ranma, as he didn't want special treatment because of his "condition".

Of course, the teachers were sensitive enough not to mention his problem in class, but kept him back for a few moments to express their admiration for his courage in coming to school, and ask him to arrive a little earlier if his reactions needed some time to be reversed in whatever means he used.

Collecting on his IOUs from the released felons, Ranma was able to find where the most popular underground fighting tournaments in the Bayville area took place, and made a considerable amount of money testing to see if his training was paying off on those who thought they were great for gaining a belt or two in some school of Martial Arts. Needless to say one or two less than friendly men had at gunpoint attempted to persuade Ranma into handing over the money he won for fighting and the money he won for betting on himself. They failed, of course, and Ranma was quite generous with leaving them alive and able to function. Whether or not they would be able to eat solid food or use their genitals in procreative activities for the next year was still in question. And the Colorectal Surgeon handling their case would have a very amusing story to tell at the next convention about the weapons he had to remove from a pair of criminals and how they claimed this had come to be. ("'We were putting them back after cleaning them, tripped down a set of stairs and fell on them!' Bwahahahaha!")

The bet between Ranma and Logan had been declared a draw when Ranma managed to successfully fly a simulated jet from an airstrip, through a dog fight and land on an aircraft carrier, but in his celebration neglected to catch the time, so by the time Logan and Ranma had regained a semblance of rational thought, it was a few minutes past midnight of the final night.

As the bet had been declared a draw, Ranma and Logan agreed to Ranma instructing a volunteer Martial Arts course for the Mansion's inhabitants over a week or two, and Logan would get Ranma a motorcycle, which Ranma had yet to select.

So far, the only one who bothered to show up for Ranma's class, was Jean. Rogue had spent one class watching what Ranma taught, and decided there was too great a risk of her clothes slipping and her opponent getting in contact with her skin, so she didn't return to the class, though she was reported having gone over the kata recorded by the Danger Room in private against simulations. Risty made fun of Ranma giving Jean "private instruction" when she heard how his classes turned out.

Ranma and Tabitha's break-up had become public knowledge, and Ranma actually gained some popularity with the girls when the blonde troublemaker told anyone who asked that he was an excellent kisser, they parted on good terms, and that he hadn't exerted any sort of pressure to move on in the relationship. This was of course true, but only because Ranma hadn't realized he had started a relationship with the girl and thus had no inclination about moving it forward. And the kiss had been Tabitha's doing, so if she liked his shocked response, then who was he to argue?

Scott had gone on a trip to Hawaii to visit his brother. Ranma suspected it was also to have a better excuse to not attend his classes.

Henry McCoy, or Beast as his code name had become, had discovered the excellent technology of both the infirmary and the Danger Room. He had actually surprised Ranma by extending on the gun-fu scenario so it didn't end when the guards in the corridor ran out … Ranma now had to fight his way up a set of stairs, dodging not only bullets, but being forced to outrun or grab onto grenades and throw them down the stairwell before they exploded near him. Once on the roof, he had to dodge rail-gun fire from a helicopter that circled the building, then get into his own helicopter and make his escape to a designated safe landing zone outside the city. This had the added bonus of teaching him to fly a chopper, and did so in a hurry.

When this first happened, McCoy apologized, because he hadn't warned Ranma about the changes beforehand, but Ranma brushed it off as being great exercise; adding some unpredictable or unforeseen elements was a good way of making him try new things, in other words: adaptation.

Still, it was time for Ranma's class, and as predicted, only Jean showed up.

The moment she walked through the door of the Danger Room, Ranma knew this would not end well.

Jean was wearing pale denim shorts, an overly large white t-shirt over a black sports bra, tennis socks and high-top basketball shoes.

"Maybe you should change into something a little stretchier," Ranma suggested, pointing at Jean's shorts.

"What's wrong with these?" Jean challenged. "I've done cheer-leading practices in them several times."

"And you've washed and dried them in quick succession after, right?" Ranma questioned.

"Yes."

"Okay … how old are they?"

"A couple of years," Jean answered, giving Ranma a curious look, as though wondering what his intentions were in this. "They used to be jeans, but I tore a hole in one knee, so I had them altered into shorts."

"They won't hold," Ranma sighed. "The threads will be too brittle and worn. You should change into something else, maybe your X-Men uniform?"

"They'll hold," Jean countered snappishly, as though she had figured out what his game was and didn't like it. "Now get on with the class."

Sighing once more in resignation, Ranma splashed himself with a glass of cold water, and went on to instruct Jean in the basic forms of Aikido.

As predicted, while Jean was executing a high kick in attack of Ranma, a tearing sound split the normal sounds of sparring, and Ranma got an eyeful of creamy white flesh surrounding and pinching together a thin strip of black, lacy material. Another poor choice in training attire.

Almost immediately after Ranma got a partial view of a sacred piece of female anatomy, Jean was crouching on the ground, covering the tear along the seam with her hands, blushing as red as a stop light, yelling at the fellow redhead to look away.

"There's nothing you have that I haven't seen before, you know," Ranma pointed out as she did what she was asked to do, a pale blush decorating her face. Quickly removing her white cotton shirt, revealing the black tank top underneath, Ranma tossed it over her shoulder. "Here, cover yourself up in this."

As Jean wrapped the shirt around her waist, Ranma offered to lead the way back to her room so she could keep an eye out for others and distract them should anyone show up.

The offer was accepted, and Ranma walked a few steps ahead of Jean, serving both as a lookout and to avoid accidentally catching another glimpse if the shirt didn't perform its task well enough.

After a tense walk, they had reached Jean's room, and Ranma stopped outside.

"Thank you, Ranma," said Jean, and gave the fellow redhead a quick peck on the cheek before slipping inside and closing the door behind her. A moment later, it opened a crack and Ranma's shirt was held out.

Regaining her blush and accepting the garment, Ranma composed herself and headed out to find Logan. It was time to start the motorcycle selection.

* * *

Roaring along the deserted prairie road, Ranma let the wind ruffle his hair and tug at his clothes.

The sun was shining and scorching hot, but wearing light colors and at sixty miles an hour speed, it didn't feel that bad; a far cry from the frigid winter air of Bayville.

Revving the engine of the Ducati 650 Indiana he was riding, Ranma simply enjoyed the feeling of speed as the ground moved beneath him and the air around him.

A glance in the mirror made him frown.

The dot in the middle was growing. That was not good.

Ranma veered violently off the road, out into the dry prairie, kicking up a trail of sand and dust.

Behind him, on the road where his skid marks faded into a sand track, a mushroom shape of fire rose amidst a rain of dust, chunks of asphalt, rock and dead foliage, completely obliterating the beginnings of Ranma's dust trail.

The F-35 responsible for the missile dove and changed the configuration of his jets to slow down rapidly and turn to give chase to the fleeing motorcyclist.

Veering away once more, Ranma came out of the twin paths of dirt that was kicked into the air behind him, and that continued in a more or less straight line beyond where he turned.

In his sudden turn, Ranma unexpectedly came off the sharp lip of a dried-out river bed, and he barely managed to compensate for the shift in weight before landing to swerve off again down the dry scar on the landscape.

Turning back towards the side he had just jumped from, Ranma managed to build enough speed to make it to the lip. An explosion blossomed in the middle of the riverbed and the pressure was strong enough to push the boy and his motorcycle over the lip and onto rocky and relatively flat ground.

As he rode away from the riverbed, Ranma saw in his mirror another row of dirt being kicked up, a far less steady one, and a helicopter of some kind came into view with one side door open and with a mounted rail gun that was being sloppily aimed towards him as much as the helicopter's movements and the rig's mobility allowed by the darkly-clad person strapped in behind it.

Great pillars of rock appeared around an outcropping of rock, and glad of the cover Ranma sped up towards it as fast as the bike could go on such a varied terrain.

The second Ranma passed the second rock pillar, the base of the first one exploded into chips, knocking it over like a felled tree.

The F-35 swept by, and slowed down as it changed configuration into VTOL mode to resume its hunt.

Rounding the final pillar, Ranma leaned into the skid more than necessary and with his free hand, scraped up a handful of pebbles. Kicking out with his knee, something not recommended for anyone who cannot take a boulder to the chest without injuries, Ranma righted himself and his bike, and made a beeline towards the F-35, which was still lining up its gun sights after him.

Though the fighter pilot had very good reaction time, there was very little that could be done about a motorcycle aiming directly at it at high speed as the jet was being steadied for another shot.

As Ranma passed under the jet, he catapulted the handful of rock into the hull, and as though shot with a canister shot at close range, the jet veered off with a big hole through the fuel tank that gushed jet fuel into the after burning turbofan.

Ranma was pressed flat against the ground along with his bike as he passed underneath the Rolls Royce lift fan, but the pressure didn't last long, even if a normal person would likely be crushed into a puddle, and the shock of the heavy impact caused the jet to recoil and scream away before the jet fuel ignited from the afterburners, the entire thing exploded in a big ball of fire and a pressure wave that actually swept Ranma and his bike ten meters before he managed to stop in time to watch as the flaming wreckage smashed into the ground.

The hairs on the back of Ranma's neck rose, alerting him to an approaching danger, giving him only enough time to dive behind the fallen pillar of rock as a strip of dirt burst into the air, running across the motorcycle, which started leaking and burning, followed by a small blast of fire that consumed the motorcycle as the gas tank explosively released its content to the flames.

"You destroyed my bike!" Ranma roared, shaking his fist at the helicopter as it circled around to get a better shot. "You bastards!"

Rushing out into the open, Ranma caught hold of his smoldering former motorcycle, and single-handed threw it at the chopper.

The burning wreck of a bike smashed through the blades keeping the craft airborne, and the person behind the gun had a look of shock and surprise as gravity started kicking in, pulling the two-and-a-half ton aircraft down the thirty meters it had to the ground.

Its impact site was directly next to the last stone pillar on the row, and Ranma took advantage of the convenient location to play some domino; a spectacular sight on the normal scale if done right, but truly amazing when done on such a large scale as with geological features.

One by one, the pillars fell after Ranma rammed the closest one with his shoulder, incidentally dislocating it but that was easily righted with a forceful yank by his good hand, and the final one slammed down on the already flat helicopter like a hammer on an anvil. "Take _that_!"

"**You might have overdone it, Ranma,"** commented the calm voice of McCoy over the Danger Room intercom as the prairie dissolved into disappearing pixels. Ranma was actually surprised as it was supposed to be Logan's turn to man the controls. They must have switched in the middle. **"The whole point of the simulation was to test the capabilities of your chosen vehicle, not turn it into one of your Gun-Fu exercises."**

"That's what I did," Ranma argued towards the control room. "I tested how much stress it could take, how fast it could go and how well it handled before it was modified in any way. I liked it. It felt right. I think I'll have Logan get this one for me."

Brushing himself off, Ranma took note of the new hole he'd made on his knee as he scraped it along the ground in his quest for pebbles. The "road burn" had already started to heal, but his quick healing wouldn't help fix his clothes, something that annoyed him greatly, as his clothes would always get ruined in some manner when he started getting serious in a battle situation. It wouldn't surprise him if he one day ended up walking back home in the nude after some fight.

"**The Professor just called for those inside to meet in the Entertainment Room. He said it was important,"** Beast announced after a moment pause.

"Then let's not keep my employer waiting!" Ranma announced comically. "He could be considering giving me a pay cut, and that must be prevented at all costs!"

* * *

Scott and Alex had been struggling against the raging sea for who knew how long.

Not long ago their boat had capsized in a giant wave, and sunk quickly thereafter. All that remained was a buoyant plastic seat that had also been used as a lid for the storage compartment under the back bench, and the two teen boys clung to it to stay afloat.

Around them, rain whipped along in the strong wind, and the waves threatened to wash over them instead of pushing them up with each rise.

After what felt like an eternity of struggling to stay afloat, a Coast Guard rescue helicopter appeared over the waves, and spotted the pair of them.

Being the responsible elder brother, Scott made sure Alex was the first to get secured to the winch that would pull him up.

Luck was not on their side, as a random bolt of lightning severed the tail of the helicopter while Alex had only been lifted part of the way.

Because of the lack of steering, which went out with the tail propeller, the helicopter teetered over on its side and started plummeting.

Scott used his optic beam to knock the heavy thing off course, lest it crush him under it, and the rescue workers leaped out to be carried away by the currents.

Alex was about to get pulled under by the three-ton helicopter when a slender hand darted in and grabbed hold of the wire connecting the boy to the wreckage.

The blonde surfer boy was pulled out of the water by said hand, even as the wire went taut, and revealed a redhead with short hair, a white shirt, dark pants with a hole on one knee and a generous figure.

Ranma stood atop the restless waters, holding Alex with one hand, while at the same time holding up the sinking wreckage of the rescue helicopter of three ton with hardly any effort. This was an act.

Holding up about three ton with one hand was very straining, especially since the currents were adding to this by tugging and pulling at the wreck, but Ranma wanted to rub this in Scott's face so badly that she managed to keep up the appearance of exerting no effort. Thankfully she hadn't used her other arm, as it was still somewhat sore from being dislocated and popped back into place earlier that day.

"Can't you even take a vacation without needing me to bail you out?" Ranma yelled at Scott over the deafening wind.

Not waiting for a response, Ranma used the other hand to seemingly tear the wire, while in reality forming a sharp edge along her middle finger with ki to cut through the metal in a manner gave the appearance of tearing, and with both hands spun around like an Olympic Hammer Throw competitor, then released the blonde boy.

Alex rose, rose, rose and at his apex while he thought he would vomit from the excitement and sudden centrifugal experience of being tossed in a spin, was caught by an invisible hand.

Screaming into sight was a black aircraft; the X-Jet, with the bottom hatch open and Jean Grey standing at the bottom of the ramp, hand extended.

As Jean was getting Alex into the jet, Ranma strolled to Scott and pulled the reluctant boy out.

"The rescue workers!" Scott called out over the wind. "They're still out there!"

"They've activated their emergency beacons, and a ship is changing course for them, they'll be fine!" retorted Ranma.

"You're going to hold this over me, aren't you?" Scott nearly growled.

"For as long as I can get away with," confirmed Ranma. "Now, we need to get back to the jet quickly and tell your brother about my curse before he develops a crush on me or something."

"Fat chance," Scott argued. "I doubt he'd be attracted to women who could crush steel between their fingers."

"Yes, because a girl that can permanently disable you with a thought is _so_ much more appealing," Ranma taunted in a laugh. "Now hang on, this will probably get a little hairy."

"What-" Scott was in the process of asking as Ranma pulled him along in a dash across the rising and sinking waves towards where the jet was struggling against the storm, even with the "Weather Witch" Storm standing on a raised platform above it.

With a mighty jump, Ranma and Scott were airborne and headed for the jet.

As they approached, the weather caused the nearest side to dip, thus ruining Ranma's initial aim. She tossed Scott at the ramp, where Jean was preparing to grab them both with her telekinetic powers, and grabbed on to the wing.

Much like a spider, Ranma crawled along the wing, and then the fuselage until she reached Storm's platform, which she climbed onto and tapped the white-haired woman on the shoulder to let her know she was there.

The weather fluctuated for a moment in Storm's surprise, but quickly returned to as much stillness as she was able to produce.

Just as they were about to leave, a funnel cloud made contact with the ocean very close to where they were hovering.

The suction of the large waterspout was added to the storm in general, and for a moment, the jet almost went in before Storm could get the immediate area around the jet under control. As the jet started moving away and the platform lowered, Ranma could not help but feel good about having volunteered for this mission despite not being apart of the team. She would be able to point out to Scott for months that she had saved him and his brother, the perfect way to diffuse a brewing argument about whether or not she was part of the Brotherhood.

"Life is good."

* * *

Author's Notes: I'm actually very irate at the moment. Not long after posting the previous chapter, I had finished the outlines for the Epilogue of TBP, this chapter and was beginning the next one for WR, when the power went out. Okay, no problem, I turned the computer back on when the power returned and was about to continue my writing when I discovered a problem; nothing had been saved, even though I repeatedly did so. In fact, I make it a point to save after the end of each sentence or if I look away from the screen for a little while. As it turns out, there was a problem with something called the , which was needed to "convert" the files into text. Without it, the additional files I had saved the text on would only show a blank page. I went about fixing the problem, and when I did it once again showed me a blank page instead of the text I had spent days writing (combined, over ten pages of text) and was actually satisfied with how turned out. Thus the reason I am irate. I had to rewrite everything from scratch when I didn't remember half of what I'd written! From now on, new stories are not introduced to the computer until I've already made an outline on paper … just to be on the safe side.

Not as long as it could have been, I know – perhaps it will be improved in the rewrite at some point.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	13. Book 2 Chapter 10 Holidays

Posted: Tuesday 29 January 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Ten – Holidays

* * *

"I'm spending too much time here," Ranma observed to himself as he looked over Forge's proposed changes to the Ducati 650 Indiana. The boy was okay, smart, and best of all not part of the X-Men or the Brotherhood, which made him a neutral party on friendly terms with the X-Men.

Almost all his free time was spent at Xavier's Mansion, with the exception of sleep, underground fights, and while hanging out with Risty and Rogue.

Lately, when Risty continued teasing him about giving Jean "private instructions" Ranma hadn't minded, mostly because of what happened at the end of their last lesson, which had taken place outside in a snow-free dome maintained by Jean as additional training in using her powers as she did other things. Not all villains or situations would be kind enough to pause just because she needed to concentrate.

Meanwhile, Logan exacted his revenge on the other X-Men for snubbing his hard-won bet and getting Ranma to teach. The revenge was a long row of rounds in the gauntlet known as "Logan's Run" simply because it was the kind of torture the kids thought only Logan would think to send them through, in the snow, with extra wind and snow provided by Storm on Logan's request, while the automated defenses of the Mansion fired non-lethal rounds at them and Logan sneaked in an attack now and again while yelling at them to keep moving. The icing on the cake was that the dome where Ranma and Jean comfortably practiced the last kata was in plain view during the whole run, making the others wish they had taken advantage of the tutor Logan had gone to such extreme measures to acquire for a couple of weeks.

What had happened in that dome was that Jean had confessed to being attracted to Ranma, an attraction that was helped by Ranma not taking advantage of her in a situation like the split shorts, and for being a gentleman where other teen boys would have gawked.

She was willing to dump Duncan and get together with him for a while to see if the attraction lasted, as long as he was willing to try.

As he was currently without fiancees, the mechanics of which he didn't feel like thinking about at the time, Ranma agreed to the relationship. It would be nice to figure out how a relatively normal relationship would work. And his "break up" with Tabitha had left him curious about the subject of romantic interaction.

Jean had gone with Ranma and Logan to purchase Ranma's new motorcycle the next day.

Granted, the motorcycle was not exactly fresh out of the factory, but Logan knew where to go, and whom he could trust not to get a raw deal.

The Ducati 650 Indiana was khaki colored, with the exception of the seat, which was black. The chrome handlebars gleamed in the light of the shop they went to, and there was hardly a spot of dirt on it anywhere, indicating a recent cleaning.

The color was not displeasing, but not Ranma's taste. It was something they could take care of after purchase.

When the time came to pay, after a test drive around the lot and no further because of the weather, there had arisen a problem.

"My Motorcycle License?" Ranma asked. He had forgotten about licenses, and certainly didn't know he needed one to buy a motorcycle.

"Yes, we need to verify that you're legally able to drive," the gruff salesman grunted, evidently using words he wasn't comfortable with, but believed necessary to be clearly understood.

"Er …"

"Here, kid," Logan mock sighed and tapped Ranma on the shoulder with a black calf-skin wallet. "You forgot it in your hurry, so I brought it for you."

Opening the wallet, and making an effort to appear as though it wasn't for the first time, Ranma found not only the exact amount of money for the motorcycle, and tax, but a Motorcycle License, pilot licenses for airplanes and helicopters, and insurance ID, all with his name, picture and information on them where they should be.

"There we go," the salesman, who really looked more like a fat and greasy motorcycle thug than a salesman, said in satisfaction as he accepted the license and money, not questioning why someone would carry around that kind of cash in their wallet. "Happy Holidays."

After taking down the information on the license onto the computer, and printing out a receipt, owners registration and insurance information, Logan helped Ranma load the motorcycle into the back of the "X-Car" which was a large Humvee-like suburban vehicle, with a wreath mounted on the grill in the seasonal spirit. It was not the weather to drive all the way back to the Mansion on a motorcycle, and they were going to improve on it, so the less of a chance there was of an accident on it the better.

Jean could not wait longer than after she was seated in the car before her curiosity slipped through her control.

"When did you get those licenses?" she asked. "I thought there were rules and regulations. You wouldn't have had the time to get those inside the few months you've been here."

"Yer right," Logan interrupted. "It would've taken much longer, especially for a foreigner, but we have connections, Chuck and I, who helped speed things up. All we needed to do was use the newly repaired Cerebro to make them believe they had sat in on your lessons, and we used Cerebro to estimate what your responses would have been on the written tests, based on what we've seen you do. You passed with about ninety-one percent correct, by the way.

"However, we came across something strange while we were doing this," continued Logan.

"What do you mean 'strange'?" asked Ranma suspiciously.

"According to your papers, you've applied for dual citizenship, and gotten it approved. Apparently you were born on an American Military Base in Japan, your grandfather was an American Staff Sergeant permanently stationed in Japan due to having no family back home, and your mother was visiting him when she had you. Your birth records say that you were born in the middle of your grandfather's on-base house because they couldn't get an ambulance through fast enough, which means you were born on American soil to a half-American woman."

"Huh?" Ranma couldn't help but exhale in shock. Jean also looked surprised.

"That's not all," Logan continued sternly. "You've been granted emancipation based on your father's crime sheet, and inability to keep from making bad life-altering decisions on your behalf. The police should've told you this when they had you in for questioning. It's been on file since before that, and you should have gotten the paperwork.

"You've been on your own for two months, kid," Logan finished. "And you don't look like you knew it."

"I have a grandfather?" Ranma couldn't help but ask. It was all so much to take in.

"Had," Logan corrected. "Staff Sergeant Connor passed away two years after you were born."

"Why didn't pop tell me about this?" Ranma asked, loosening his shirt at the neck. It was a little warm and restricting.

"My guess is, he didn't know," Logan grunted. "A man matching his description was seen with two others at the opposite end of the country during your birth, running from a mob of angry people for having committed a series of crimes in their neighborhood, including theft of feminine underwear.

"Hey, kid, take a deep breath," Logan added, seeing Ranma sweating. "I know this is shocking news, but stay with us."

For whatever reason, Jean wrapped her closest arm around Ranma.

Deep breaths had eventually calmed Ranma down, preventing an embarrassing episode of either vomiting or fainting, neither of which would have been good. And the comforting presence of Jean had also been of help. Maybe there really was more to having a girlfriend than getting pounded into the ground for the slightest mistake.

That had been a few days earlier, and Ranma had come to terms with it after sending a scathing e-mail to his mother for not telling him about his grandfather, and curtly warning her about what she might hear about his legal status, including his ignorance in the matter.

As Ranma was going over the plans for his bike, including Forge's suggestion of painting a red flame on black for the tank, with a rearing ghostly white horse in the middle, he was aware of the festivities taking place inside.

The tree was being decorated, and the inhabitants of the Mansion were getting ready to either celebrate the Holidays, or getting ready to go home to their families and do the same.

Logan was going on the road again, having "some important things to catch up on" as he said, so if Ranma wanted to run simulations, he'd either have to get McCoy to help him, or learn how to do it all himself.

Jean also belonged to the group that would be leaving for home the next day, and Ranma was a little hesitant about seeing her. He had gotten her a small gift, her being his girlfriend and all, but was insecure about whether she'd like it or not. After all, his experience with romance was pathetic so he had no idea what girls would like, let alone what they'd expect for Christmas when they'd only been dating a little under a week.

This was why he was distracting himself in the garage. He was waiting until there would be fewer people present when he embarrassed himself with his "crappy" selection of gifts.

Logan's gift had been at the man's request; etching protection and cleanliness Seals into every part of his personal bike, though that wasn't what he said word-for-word, it was what he meant through comparison to the dirt bike. It was a lot easier to get presents when told exactly what to get. Ranma didn't know why people insisted on that observation thing; "keeping an ear out" for what the other person might want or need. It only complicated things and left room for disappointment.

Ranma was broken from his thoughts about how unfair some traditions and customs were by the door leading inside opening and closing.

"Logan said I'd find you here," said the voice of Jean, the humor of the last night together with her friends before the holiday still coloring her tone to make it happier.

"Oh, hi," Ranma replied, and accepted the quick hug and peck they had agreed on exchanging in greeting until they were ready to move on. It might not be much, but Ranma was unaccustomed to close contact with others unless it was in a fight, so Jean thought it might help him acclimatise to a romantic relationship.

"Are you hiding?" Jean asked in a laugh. "Were you bad this year, and thought Santa would drop down the chimney to tell everyone about it?"

"No," Ranma half-lied. "Not entirely, I just thought you'd want some more time with your friends. And I didn't want you to open your gift with others around."

"Really?" Jean faltered for a moment, but then smirked suggestively. "It is that risque? Are you saying we need to move faster?"

"NO!" exclaimed Ranma. Logan had made it perfectly clear what he thought about certain stages of a relationship with the kids in his care, and one did not defy a man with six blades on him at any time. "Nothing like that!"

"I'm just having fun with you, Ranma," Jean laughed. "I know you wouldn't get me something improper after how you've acted around opportunities to catch a glimpse or two more than you should.

"I got you something as well," she added and presented Ranma with a box she'd hidden behind her back on the way in.

It was a little bigger than a sketch pad, as thick as a box of chocolates, bright red, with a green stripe crossing over and under as though it was a ribbon.

"Open it!" the redhead practically squealed in excitement. Christmas must really agree with the normally composed young woman.

Doing as requested, Ranma saw the color white inside, and it remained so even after removing the white paper draped over the content. It was a collection of cotton shirts, three of them. All similar to the kind he normally wore.

Ranma didn't know how to respond, even if he was pleased, but luckily Jean beat him to it. "I noticed that you seem to get some torn shirts after your training in the Danger Room, and you wear those already, so I thought I'd get you some spare ones. Do you like them?"

"Of course," Ranma admitted and gingerly gave her a hug and peck in thanks. Hesitantly, Ranma pulled Jean's present from Stuff Space, making it seem like he had been hiding it behind his back as well. It was an elongated box as long and as slim as the X-Men Communicator device.

Jean opened the box carefully, and poured its content into her hand.

Out came a necklace similar to the smooth Mediterranean blue stone on a chain she usually wore; only this one was white, with a sparkling, metallic white chain.

"I made it myself …" Ranma added sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his head. "It has some special properties."

"Like what?" Jean asked while removing her old necklace with well practiced ease. Waiting for an answer, she fastened the clasps on the new necklace around her neck.

"First of all, once the clasps are hooked it can't be removed by anyone but the one who put it on," Ranma explained as Jean slipped the old necklace into the box and proceeded to put it in her pocket. "Second, it will offer a small protection for you."

"How?" asked the interested Jean.

"It surrounds you with a thin barrier," Ranma continued, pausing as Jean felt around with her hands to see if she could find it. "It will repel incoming objects exceeding a certain speed with the same force applied, no good against slow projectiles, gas, liquids or attacks, though.

"And don't worry about ruining it or the chain, they won't break."

"I love it," Jean assured him and gave him a quick kiss to prove it. "It's very well made, too. What's it made of?"

"Truthfully, or do you want me to lie?" questioned Ranma in a wince.

"First tell me honestly … then you can tell me what you would have told me to lie," replied Jean kindly.

"Okay. It's plastic. I made it by melting unused plastic sporks from the school cafeteria into a mold I made after seeing your necklace, and added the special properties," Ranma confessed. "I made the chain the same way. One of the properties I didn't tell you about was a slight change in appearance, weight and texture from their original materials. The less said about how I figured out the true weight of their appearance, the better."

"What would the lie have been?" asked Jean curiously, holding the necklace up to try and spot any indication of their original materials.

"Ivory and white gold," replied Ranma nearly instantly. "Sorry, but I didn't know what to get, and I'm not rich enough to buy something _real_ like that. And since we're still early in our relationship, I didn't want you thinking I was trying to buy your affection or something."

"I don't care, Ranma," Jean assured him. "You could have given me the plastic utensils and I'd still like it. You're too insecure about yourself. I'm confident any of your future presents to anyone will be just fine."

"But you got me these shirts," argued Ranma. "They must have cost a lot more than what I spent-"

"It's not the cost of a present that matters," Jean countered. "It's the care and thought put into the selection that counts. Now, come along. There's still some time for hot chocolate or eggnog before I need to go to bed. Maybe you could have the professor let you stay in a guest room for the night; it might not be safe going out into the snow this late."

This was the end of the discussion, and Ranma found himself pulled by the arm into the Manor and the Entertainment Room, where the tree was fully decorated, Rogue was giving Scott a present, Kurt was chasing Kitty around with a twig of mistletoe, and Logan was conversing with Professor Xavier, sipping from his usual white mug, the content of which was unseen. Ranma could detect the scent of an insignificant amount of alcohol, though.

"Get it over with?" asked Logan in a grunt as he saw Ranma. The boy nodded. "Didn't go nearly as bad as you thought, eh?"

"No," Ranma confirmed.

"Jean, I must say that necklace looks lovely," Professor Xavier complimented.

"Thank you, Professor, but Ranma made it," Jean accepted.

"Really?" the bald man asked with a raised brow. "Perhaps I'm overpaying him if he can afford to make something like that out of such expensive materials?"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Professor," Logan butted in quietly so only the four of them could hear. "I was there when he made it, and there ain't nothin' expensive about it. For all the security adjustments he recommended, he's worth every cent we pay him, if not more. Still say he would be a great addition to the X-Men, but I'm not gonna force him."

Jean and Professor Xavier held a brief telepathic conversation following Logan's opinions, and the old man nodded in agreement. "Yes, having Ranma with us would have its advantages," he agreed. "Tell me, Ranma, can you do those things to _any_ substance?"

"As long as it's solid enough to retain carvings or a colored pattern for a few seconds, yes," Ranma confirmed, getting the gist of what Jean had shared with the man. "Why?"

"That's not important at the moment," Xavier brushed off. "Enjoy what's left of the evening, and I'll get a room prepared for you to spend the night in."

"But-"

"It'll be great, Ranma," Jean encouraged. "Then you can see me off in the morning!"

"You ain't gonna win this one, kid," Logan chuckled. "Might as well give in and save yourself some trouble."

"Fine, I'll stay the night. But that's it, I'm still not living here or joining your group," Ranma agreed cautiously.

* * *

True to their word, the next morning no one had bothered Ranma about staying longer.

Ranma had managed to surprise them somewhat, as Kitty had attempted to "ghost" in and wake him. She had met a solid force instead of a penetrable wall, which resulted in her getting a headache, a bruised forehead from where she had attempted to get through and sore coccyx from her awkward landing after banging her head.

The reason for this was Ranma's Martial Arts Calligraphy set, which he always brought with him and used to write cards with the same protections he had on his own room at the Brotherhood Boarding House. He had removed them again the moment he felt a pang of pain outside his room, and emerged fully dressed, wearing one of the shirts Jean had gotten him.

Slung over one arm was the long leather coat he had gotten a few weeks earlier. Though it wasn't supposed to handle this kind of weather, Ranma had "waterproofed" it to make sure it would take no damage, and added a little seal on the inside to make it maintain a comfortable temperature, which adjusted according to the temperatures both inside and outside the coat to make it more comfy for the wearer. Other little features had been added, but they weren't important enough to mention at the time.

What surprised most of the household about this was that they did not recall Ranma having worn it when he arrived, and none of them were missing any black leather coats. They only knew that Ranma showed up at the Mansion or at school, and that he went around in his regular clothes, but they could not for the life of them recall seeing him wearing that coat.

Rogue had seen it, of course, as Ranma wasn't stupid enough to wander through the cold winter snow without it, and they had spent time together with Risty.

Jean and Logan saw it when they went to buy the motorcycle, but could not remember where it came from or went before and after.

"How did you keep me out like that?" Kitty groaned as she gingerly sat down sideways in her chair at the breakfast table, to keep pressure off the coccyx.

"Let's just leave it at 'my personal home security', okay?" Ranma stated. "Don't want to give away all my secrets, and this one is _big_. Are those scrambled eggs?"

"Not so fast," Scott objected. "Did you do something to this building?"

"Nothing permanent, and just the walls, door, windows, floor and ceiling of the guest room I stayed in," Ranma added. "It's gone now. Jean, could you please pass the bread?"

"Professor, he could have weakened the foundation," Scott insisted.

"While I appreciate your concern, Scott, Ranma has shown enough skill and knowledge that I trust him in this matter. If he said nothing is wrong, then that is the way it is," Professor Xavier announced. "Ranma has been testing our security since he arrived, and based on his suggestions for improvements, I can only say that he has our best health and safety at heart."

Ranma hid his smugness as he helped himself to bread, condiments and scrambled eggs. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all, especially with a healthy serving of honest self-assurance at the expense of the ego of someone you didn't like.

* * *

Though he had nowhere he needed to be, Ranma did not feel he should intrude on the Mansion during the Holidays.

The question remained: what should he occupy himself with?

There were only a few options open to him.

He could try to fight in the underground fighting tournaments again, but he wasn't sure if these hard-bitten lowlife celebrated Christmas or similar festivities at this time of year, so there was no guarantee that he'd get much out of it.

There was a chance he could track Logan down and see what this business of his was, but he didn't think the man would like having his private life invaded.

He could always go back to his standard fall-back plan of training. It had after all been a while since he made any progress in his Henge, and his Martial Arts Calligraphy, while not slacking in skill, had not made any further progress in the weight-training seal he was developing.

His Holidays planned, Ranma walked the chilly streets of winter Bayville, and as a heap of snow fell from the roof of the building he passed under changing him to a her. He caught glimpse of the newspaper through the glass of a vending machine.

So, people started seeing angels around Christmas. Good to know.

* * *

Author's Notes: I'm a little annoyed at the numbering of episodes they have on various online video sites. I was told that episode 2-07 was "African Storm", and wrote the story based on that. But as I look through the episode list and description for the spelling of the name of the shaman in that episode, I see an episode squeezed in between the last one and the one I outlined and started writing. When I think it over, I realize the snow had melted a little too fast, but I just thought they had skipped ahead a few weeks like always.

So, I find myself having to redo this chapter, and move a large bulk of the plot to the next one. Maybe I should just write them both and post them at the same time.

Not much happens, and for that I apologize, but if I wanted Ranma in the middle of every little thing that happens in the XME series, I'd have made him join one of the groups, most likely the X-Men. As it is, Ranma is not going to be present for _every_ event, only the important ones.

I know I had a lot of information about Ranma appearing at once in this chapter, but hopefully, I managed to get any inconsistencies in the text smoothed out to cause less confusion. I had originally not intended to reveal any of this stuff for another few chapters, but given my lack of imagination, figured I could insert it here and attempt to make it fit.

No, I did not mean for Ranma to be related to Connor from Terminator. It is not an uncommon name, and I'm not planning to add in a Terminator crossover. If there happens to be a Staff Sergeant Connor stationed in Japan, sorry, this isn't about you.

Sporks, for those of you who are unfamiliar with this term, is a combination of spoon and fork, with a big enough curve to hold liquid, and short, stubby tongs at the end … some even have one edge with serrations to be used as a knife.

Credits: It is thanks to the members of The Fanfiction Forum that I was made aware of the purchasing procedure for motor vehicles.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, removal of superfluous words and adding missing ones.


	14. Book 2 Chapter 11 Intruders

Posted: Sunday 09 March 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Eleven – Intruders

* * *

Christmas was over, and in an amazingly short amount of time, or perhaps it only felt like it, the snow melted.

And while nature wasn't blossoming, things were turning green and animals were more openly active.

Ranma's bike was still being modified. Forge thought it would be cool to add a Nitrous boost to it, along with a few other features that might not be entirely safe or legal. So he hadn't gotten to drive it yet, but Ranma was starting to get antsy about taking a ride.

School was back on, and given the surprisingly nice weather for the season, once Lunch came around most of the students opted to sit outside, Ranma included.

Given the rumors still running around concerning his locker and the weapon found inside, not many were willing to sit near him, especially after it became known that Jean dumped Duncan to become Ranma's girlfriend. They feared the football player would believe they supported such a couple and take his anger out on them. This was the reason Ranma didn't have to go to any trouble in reserving a seat for Jean.

The Suspension he had gone through would be up for debate at the next meeting of the School Board, and if things went well, the black spot on his record would be erased and transferred fully to that Ewing kid, who had been taken in on evidence that he had planted the weapon and periodicals in Ranma's locker.

Normally, Jean would have sat with her friends or Duncan, but as she was dating Ranma, if given a choice between her girl friend clinging to Scott or Ranma for company it wasn't that difficult to decide, which she proved by sitting down next to Ranma who was doing his best not to appear a messy eater.

They hadn't been together very long, only two weeks when excluding the time Jean spent with her family over the holidays, and despite this, they had not progressed very far in intimacy.

Holding hands now and again, sitting close, kissing lightly and hugging in greeting was as far as they had gone, a progress speed Logan wholeheartedly agreed with. After all, he had made it clear that he was not prepared to call the parents of his students with the news that they were about to become grandparents. They were his responsibility as long as they stayed at the Mansion, and if they acted poorly, it reflected not only on him, but on the entire student body staying with Xavier.

All in all, it would have been a quiet and comfortable meal if not for one thing.

"What do you want, Duncan?" Jean asked, a little annoyed that her ex-boyfriend had stepped up to them and struck what could pass for an intimidating pose, if Ranma had been five years old.

"Just came to see what you dumped me for," Duncan declared. "Doesn't look like much to me. Bet he couldn't even press a hundred pounds if his life depended on it."

"You'd be surprised," Jean commented.

"A hundred pounds," Ranma snorted, trying to hold back a laugh at the very idea that he couldn't lift something so light. On a good day, he was able to lift seven tons over his head and hold it there for a good while. Even on a bad day, he should be able to do the same with anything from half a ton to a full one. On the bright side, due to his training in Seals, the Weakness Moxibustion probably wouldn't work on him again, so there was no need to fear being returned to the strength of a baby.

"Alright, if you think you're man enough," Duncan continued and leaned in, again trying to strike an intimidating pose by flexing his muscles. "We'll have a little contest, you and me. Winner backs away from Jean."

"Excuse me?" asked Jean, her voice rising in pitch. "Are you suggesting I'm a _prize_? That I'm something to be won?"

For once, Ranma wisely shut up, recognizing the danger signs.

"Something wrong 'bout that?" Duncan asked cockily. "It's a compliment. That I'm willing to fight for you should prove something, right?"

Ranma almost winced in sympathy at the fury he could feel boiling within Jean for being treated like an object to be passed around.

Ignorant of the danger he was placing himself in, Duncan flashed Jean a smile that probably made many girls swoon. It didn't work on Jean, though.

"Duncan, I can date whomever I want, and I'm not going to switch boyfriends because of a challenge!" Jean announced heatedly, and instead of slapping the boy like Ranma had expected her to, she grabbed Ranma by the sides of his head and kissed him soundly, far more passionately than they had thus far.

Ranma was not about to end this delightful experience simply out of shock and allowed Jean to continue, even carefully returning the kiss and placing one hand on her shoulder.

Though he wasn't really paying attention, Ranma was vaguely aware of Duncan storming off with a scowl on his face, and he also felt they were attracting an audience. But that wasn't really important-

"Excuse me, Mr Saotome, Ms Grey," a collected voice interrupted. "That sort of display is not permitted on school property. Report to my office after school so we can have a small chat about whether or not I need to give you detention."

Principal Kelly marched off, and was nearly run over by Evan on his skate-board.

* * *

Thankfully, Principal Kelly saw no need to give Ranma or Jean detention, provided they promised not to let it happen again. Evan was also detained, because of his reckless behavior on his board, which could have gotten someone hurt.

While Ranma had no car or bike to transport Jean in, he settled for giving her a piggyback ride across the rooftops of Bayville, and then through the forest outside town to the Mansion.

Though she had not been conscious for it the last time, this was the second time Ranma had done this for her.

Jean seemed to enjoy the ride, and Ranma felt he had done the same. It wasn't often he got to have company on his runs between Bayville and the Mansion.

Anyway, Ranma was in no hurry. Storm had reserved the Danger Room for that afternoon so he would have plenty of time to do his homework, something Jean had asked if they could do together, even if they weren't in the same classes. Just to spend some time together.

It wasn't that much of a request, so Ranma had seen no reason to deny it.

This was how the two of the came to be in Jean's room, the door half open to assure Logan and Professor Xavier that nothing improper was taking place.

Jean was hard at work with her Chemistry homework at her desk, while Ranma was reclining against the ceiling while reading the chapter they would cover in World History over the next few days.

On Jean's desk was also a cup of tea, which she had made to give her a light caffeine buzz and wake her up after the long day of school.

As she studied, her tea started to cool. So, being the considerate boyfriend he was, Ranma decided to heat the liquid for her.

When jean next took a sip of the brown brew, she squeaked out in surprise and had to spit out what she had in her mouth, because the tea had gone from close to room temperature to scolding hot in mere moments.

"Sorry," called Ranma from above her. "I keep forgetting that not everyone is as heat-resistant as I am …"

"How did you do that?" Jean almost demanded. It wasn't unreasonable to want to know how someone had heated a cup of tea without touching it or anything around it.

"I developed a new technique from watching Scott's power," Ranma confessed with a shrug. "I'm thinking of calling it Laser Sight, or Heat Vision …"

"What else have you developed since you came here?" asked Jean, genuinely interested and with a touch of worry.

"Well, you were all there when I developed the Clone technique," Ranma started slowly, wondering how much to give away, before hoping for the best and continuing. "And I've been working on a technique based on the Henge no Jutsu from one of my favorite Manga. So far, the only thing I can change is hair color and growth, but I'm making progress."

To demonstrate the newest technique, Ranma grew a full beard, trimmed it down until only his upper lip and chin were covered, then changed the color from black to bright red, to all the colors of the rainbow lining his beard and hair, then let everything recede to normal, including his facial hair.

"Saves a little time and effort on grooming, because the stubble is starting to become very insistent," he added. "I would have to shave every other day if not for this technique. I wonder how much money I could have saved on razors and foam by figuring out as much as I had earlier …"

"Are you sure this isn't your mutation showing up?" Jean asked cautiously. "Mutant abilities doesn't always show up with a bang. For some it just slowly starts to influence the mutant without them knowing it."

"You want to test me again, don't you?" Ranma deadpanned.

"Just to make sure," Jean assured him.

"Look," Ranma interrupted. "I can feel my own aura, so to speak, and I can say without a doubt by comparing with the appearance of an active mutant's aura that I am not one yet. So do we really need to stab me with a needle to figure out something I already know?"

"How can you tell from the aura?" questioned Jean curiously. If she could learn to read auras, maybe she could help new ones make the transition simpler.

"Well, first off, mutants get a power boost to sustain their power, no matter what it is," started Ranma and got to his feet to pace the ceiling. "Then, the 'color' of their aura becomes much brighter and shifts into a different hue, to put it in understandable terms. Now, about the testing …"

"Okay, we don't have to run tests on you again," Jean relented. "But if you show more strange abilities than before, I'm sure the Professor will want to check again to be on the safe side."

* * *

After they had finished their homework, Jean needed to leave, having duties to attend to and activities to complete.

Ranma, on the other hand, needed some training, and since Storm's scheduled period in the Danger Room was up, he could do his training in there.

That isn't to say he didn't want to come with Jean and show support, but he might serve as a distraction for her as well.

The major event of the evening was that Forge declared the bike would be ready to drive in a few days. The biggest problem he had faced with the bike, was producing an alternate fuel source that would still fit within the same proportions of the original gas tank. According to Forge, the bike now ran on water that through a photovoltaic cell that would produce hydrogen and let off water and air through the exhaust. He also said something about building it with a nickel-tin catalyst instead of platinum. He hadn't said if he'd gotten a replacement for the oil that lubricated the machinery, but Ranma guessed he'd find out later. Still, based on what Forge said, Ranma would possibly have to find a way to conceal the solar cells without hindering their performance not to mention improving on the engine to keep everything at a constant temperature to prevent icing or corrosion.

As evening shifted into night, and he was getting ready to head back to his room at the Boarding House, Ranma felt several semi-presences in the area. Almost like ghosts, yet not.

While Ranma had not done extensive research on the matter, he was reasonably certain that Professor Xavier's Mansion was not haunted. He had after all been around for a few months, and had not witnessed or felt the presence of a ghost or more in that time.

This meant that someone was manually keeping the Mansion under surveillance, and were very good at it.

Ranma could not for the life of him figure out why anyone would keep surveillance on this place without some hostile intentions, and decided swiftly that keeping watch was a good idea. After all, he was responsible for security improvements, and if his suggestions weren't up to snuff, then Scott would have all the more reason to distrust him.

However, keeping watch without letting anyone know would later bring up distrust, something that was not healthy for someone whose job consisted in checking security.

This in mind, Ranma sought out Logan, who was found puffing on a cigar while taking in the crisp night air through the open garage door even as a mist crept in from the ocean.

"We might have some unwanted people on the property," Ranma announced, already knowing that Logan was aware of his presence.

"Why tell me?" grunted Logan around his cigar. "Can't you just get rid of them or let the security system take care of them?"

"Because the system won't detect them," clarified Ranma. "I can barely feel them myself. I can't tell where they are, I just know that they are somewhere on the grounds and it's very annoying."

Logan turned his head and looked at him through the smoke. "You're planning on spending the night."

"It's my job to make sure the security here is up to snuff," Ranma hastily added. "If something happened to someone because of the lacking security, the responsibility falls on me. I'd rather be here, where I can respond in time to prevent a major catastrophe, than across town in an uneasy sleep."

"Good boy," smirked Logan, the red glow of his cigar giving him a slightly sinister look. "But I can't let you do that."

"What-"

"At least not without pay," continued Logan. "I'll make you a deal. You stay up nights to keep us safer, you get the same salary as usual, but you won't check our security again immediately after. One night's vigilance in exchange for a day's security control, that's the deal, so don't let this run very long, because you need your rest, and we need to have our security tightened."

Feeling no room for arguments, Ranma nodded and took off into the mist.

After having scouted the property several dozen times since his arrival a few months ago, Ranma knew all the sweet hiding places, and perched himself on the roof where he started meditating, getting some rest while remaining aware of his surroundings. It wasn't something he could afford to do often, as it wasn't really as healthy as a night's sleep.

* * *

At one point during the night, Ranma awoke as one semi-presence solidified for a moment.

"No! Stay away!"

The cry came from Storm's room, and Ranma swept into the room faster than normal humans could follow, but the semi-presence had disappeared and Ororo was safe. So he crawled back outside through the already open balcony doors, confident in his presence not having been discovered.

As Logan dashed out onto the balcony and looked around, sniffing, Ranma could tell he picked up something, but due to Ranma masking his presence his scent was mostly blocked out. Not that Logan would point out his scent in such a situation as it would make the small crowd gathering in Ororo's room draw the wrong conclusion. Now, how to figure out the semi-presences scattered across the property.

Morning came soon after, and it was time for Ranma to make his usual entrance for his early morning training.

Because he had a feeling he would need his energy later, Ranma kept to a light kata so he wouldn't tire himself out.

After training was done, Ranma was about to wait for Jean when he felt another semi-presence solidify for a moment, followed by a very faint clatter.

Following the feeling to its source, the semi-presence had already faded, but the distress remained.

Bursting the door open, Ranma was greeted with a shattered bathroom mirror, a filling bathtub and Ororo sitting in a corner, hugging her knees and lost in the past or the haunted crooks and crannies of her mind.

Ranma was thankful that the woman was still decent, as it looked like she had been about to take a bath, judging by the tub.

After turning off the water, Ranma carefully picked up the white-haired woman and brought her back to her room.

He doubted that in her state, she'd remember who took her there, but didn't have the time to wait as he needed to get to school, and wanted to make an attempt at being the good boyfriend by getting there with Jean.

The boys at the Brotherhood, or rather Toad, claimed that the only reason Jean was dating him was that it was all part of a plot to bring him to their side. The X-Men were using the ultimate tool against a horny teenage boy; a well formed girl willing to seduce boys into getting her way. It was a theory Ranma disagreed with, and knowing that heated words would only appear childish he proceeded to "bean" the greenish boy on the head with the nearest object at the time, which had been the remote for the beaten-up TV in the living room of the Boarding House.

* * *

School proceeded much smoother than the previous day, most likely to the extra supervision Principal Kelly had added around Ranma and Jean to make sure inappropriate displays weren't repeated. With extra adults around, Duncan was not about to cause trouble and neither would many dare do the same.

After doing his homework with Jean, Ranma joined Logan and Forge in the garage.

Logan was working on another dirt bike, not the one Ranma had improved, and was distracted. Ororo had possibly revealed the morning mystery to him, and had him worried.

Ranma examined the various ways the solar cells could be disguised, while Forge was carefully testing the photovoltaic cell, commenting about how overly-complicated scientists made things appear.

The semi-presences did not return until bedtime, so Ranma was once more perched on the roof when he felt them.

In an instant, he was perched on the railing of Storm's balcony, and found it filled with snakes. Storm had shot into the air in fright, and rather than allow the dangerous creatures to remain, Ranma set one of them ablaze, scaring the rest off the balcony. A few surprised gasps followed from the foliage under the balcony where a few semi-presences were hidden.

Putting out the dead snake before anything else caught fire, Ranma saw Storm touching down on the ground in front of the Mansion, chasing someone on foot.

One semi-presence solidified in front of the woman, and held her back. There was no ill intent towards her from the man so Ranma didn't feel the need to rush to her defense.

When Storm continued to chase her nephew, Ranma felt other, _hostile_ semi-presences solidify and sprung into action.

A group of four men clad in an old African warrior style were chasing Ororo.

Now that they were out of hiding, and he actually saw how they merged in and out of shadows like dream phantoms, Ranma grinned as he would be able to locate them even concealed in the future.

Storm had become aware of her pursuers after only a short run, but the skull-like face paints on the warriors made her panic.

As they were closing in on her, one of the warriors lurched aside, falling sideways with a bleeding and bruised face.

The three others stopped in confusion, not having seen anyone or anything that should have caused such a reaction.

Simultaneously, the two closest to the unconscious warrior doubled over and flew backwards several meters before crumbling painfully on the ground.

The fourth was lucky enough to actually see his enemy fading into view as the fist connected to his face, before everything faded into black unconsciousness.

This was where Ranma realized he had gotten cocky.

He had forgotten to check for more opponents before relaxing his stance, and four darts suddenly sticking out of his neck were a short and painful reminder to not let it repeat itself, before the narcotics took effect and sleep took over for conscious thought.

* * *

Eyes snapping open, Ranma's finely honed survival instincts made him take stock of his immediate surroundings.

His massive headache made this a very difficult process.

He was in a box.

A metal box with a hatch on the roof and an unconscious Storm on the ground next to him, uncomfortably close due to the cramped space.

This was not a good position to be in, which was most likely why his abductors put him in it.

Storm suffered from claustrophobia, and combined with her mutant power would make any confined space more dangerous for others to be in than a microwave oven once she regained consciousness and realized how small the space around her was. There was no doubt Ororo would survive such a shocking experience, but though he was very resistant to fire, he did not want to try electricity of such a high voltage.

He needed an exit, and given the deteriorating drugs in his system, he could not rely fully on physical force.

His clothes were still on him, though his pockets had been turned inside out in a quick search for weapons.

Ranma still felt his belt, and grinned.

As Ranma stood, Ororo groaned and moved, indicating a return to consciousness, which was not a good thing.

He could feel several presences outside all around the container the two were in, but they held their distance, possibly from the knowledge of Storm's power and fear, and what happened when fear became prominent in her mind.

Action clear in his mind and a limited time to perform this act, Ranma straightened his loose belt to it became straight as a blade, and in two moves, slashed in a horizontal full circle as well as a vertical half-circle.

Storm's eyes were open when Ranma pushed the two upper halves of the container aside like a tool box that lost its hinges, and leaped out to avoid any possible lightning. He was grateful that none came.

A more urgent problem appeared, however, in the form of African warriors and someone who looked like a shaman waving a staff with a clear crystal at the head.

Blow-darts, swords, spears and staffs were not the greatest threat Ranma could face if he was prepared, but while being dazed from the drugs and mentally tired after two nights of no sleep, he could not possibly keep up with everything around him. And the crystal on the shaman's staff was building up energy at the man's growing chant. Whatever the results would be, Ranma was sure he would not like them.

Picking up one of the severed pieces of container, Ranma tossed it at the shaman, and followed after the airborne object.

His chanting interrupted by the piece of metal, the shaman dove to one side so as not to get hit, and was met with a kick from the still running Ranma.

The shaman's staff broke in two and the head smashed against the metal deck of the docked cargo ship they were on as the wielder slammed into the wall of the pilot house, creating a sizable dent.

"You wanted my power, Houngan?" the oddly reverberating voice of Storm roared behind Ranma, distracting him momentarily and yet again allowing a dart to hit him, this time in the arm as he had been moving to dodge it. "Then have it all!"

Ranma was barely capable of clinging to the deck as a small and powerful tornado burst from the floating and glowing woman. It reminded Ranma about the quote from the works of William Congreve: 'Heav'n hath no rage, like love to hatred turn'd, nor Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn'd.'

Ororo, or Storm as she was called, was the very image of rage, of righteous fury, even clad only in her night dress and bathrobe, lightning crackled around her as she funneled her rage into the spiraling wind of doom, aimed at the near-unconscious shaman slumped against the wall of the pilot house.

Just as he was about to be picked up by the wind, Ranma managed to use the 'Tree Climbing' technique to stick to the deck, but as the screaming and howling of moving air around him ended, it became too much both from the darts, sleepiness and now exhaustion, and Ranma lost consciousness for the second time that day.

* * *

Author's Notes: I based the engine alterations on alternate fuel sources, most of which are impractical and expensive to use in normal vehicles. I came to a few conclusions based on the articles found on Wikipedia under Photo-electrochemical cell. I am by no means an authority on the subject, and could be dead wrong on oh-so many things.

The container Ranma and Storm were stuffed into was a single one, I chose not to add another because the shaman had only prepared for Storm, and adding a menace into what they knew would be a dangerous area would only help in breaking Ororo's spirit when she discovered that her claustrophobia had made her fry Ranma.

Credits: The theory about seducing undecided mutants to the X-Men came from "The Ultimate Antidote" by Matdeception, I think … it's been a while since I read it, but I believe that's where I got it. I also hope it will be updated again, soon, because I liked it.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, removed needless information from the Author's Notes.


	15. Book 2 Chapter 12 SurpriseMove&Heartache

Posted: Thursday 10 April 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Twelve – Surprise Move and Heartache

* * *

The first thing Ranma realized when he regained conscious thought, was that he truly did not like waking up in a hospital, no matter how private it was. They were too bright and sterile.

The light burned his eyes through his lids and the smell of antiseptic tickled his nose. And to top it off, his head was pounding like Ryoga starting the Breaking Point training, or Akane breaking bricks.

Opening his eyes, Ranma caught sight of a red blur hovering over him, attached to a head with a familiar face; Jean.

"He's awake!" Jean called, unaware of the headache he had.

"Ugh, keep it down," Ranma groaned, then after a moment added a "Please."

The events that led to his current location and condition rushed back to him, eliciting another groan.

He had dropped his guard too soon, and it had cost him.

It would not happen again if he could help it.

His training could not be increased much without having a reverse effect on his body, so he would need to make absolutely certain he was safe before relaxing his guard from now on.

"Ranma, how are you?" asked the sage voice of Professor Xavier, suddenly sitting nearby. The other inhabitants of the Mansion were also in the Infirmary and waiting for his reply.

"Headache, not much else. Feels like the day after a … binge," he answered. There was no way they'd believe he had competed in a race where he got drunk from passing over a spring filled with hot sake.

"Enough small-talk," Scott interrupted. "What were you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"What?"

"No need to explain, kid," Logan announced a little louder than Ranma thought necessary. "He was workin', I was informed about it in advance and saw no need to pass it along until we saw some results. And he did but clearly didn't get the chance to tell me before we all found out about it."

"And what exactly did you do?" Xavier asked, curious.

"A couple of days ago, I felt a presence on the grounds," Ranma answered wearily, waving away Logan's approaching interruption. "A phantom presence. It was there, yet not. I couldn't track down its exact location and none of the surveillance cameras or sensors picked it up, so I told Logan and started staking out the grounds.

"There were a few instances where the semi-presence solidified, but I didn't get there in time to identify the intruder-"

"It was you who got me back to bed!" Ororo realized.

"And saved Professor Xavier a fortune in repairs from water-damage," agreed Ranma. "Moving on, the last time was enough to get a fix on them but I got cocky and let down my guard. Next thing I know, I'm in a box with Storm about to wake up. With her claustrophobia, I knew I had to get out before I became cooked so I cut my way through the crate and made sure I wasn't put back."

"You were unconscious when we found you," Jean added with a streak of both curiosity and concern.

"Well, I had been up for a few days, fought several men, was tranquilized and then fought for my life. I don't think it's that strange to be exhausted after that," replied Ranma in defense of his actions.

"I thought you had superior stamina to us regular mutants," Scott commented sarcastically. He was clearly still not fond of Ranma, and was trying to get others to see things his way.

"It took only one dart to put Storm's light out," Logan cut in. "We found six of them in the box, five of which had his blood on them, but he still came to faster than her, I think that qualifies as superior stamina."

"Not to mention that he was fully functional for several days on end without visible clues of fatigue," added Xavier. "I know only three active mutants that can carry on in such a manner, one of them being Logan."

Scott frowned at Ranma's smug grin.

"Moving on to another subject, just a few hours ago, we received a telephone call from a young woman named Nabiki Tendo," Xavier continued. "It seems your parents didn't respond well to your emancipation and change of citizenship. I won't repeat what your father said. They are currently saving up money to send a representative here to, as she said, 'beat some sense' into you."

"Great, another thing to worry about," groaned Ranma and flopped onto the bed.

* * *

The following weeks flew by in what passed for normality, apart from the meeting of the School Board where they came to the agreement that the gun incident would not mar Ranma's permanent record. This was due to the overwhelming evidence against, and conviction of the young Mr Ewing who had been sent to Juvenile Hall for a year after a court hearing that Ranma luckily didn't need to attend.

Ranma showed up each morning to train in the Danger Room and inspect the progress on his motorcycle. He'd then leave for school with Jean, getting a ride with Logan because Scott was not likely to drive Ranma anywhere after he had proven Scott wrong so many times.

In school, Ranma would pay attention in class and spend time with Jean between classes.

After school, Ranma would "hang out" with Rogue and Risty while Jean went to her extracurricular activities, such as soccer, basketball and cheer-leading.

Ranma would meet Jean by the time her things ended and they would head back to the Mansion to do homework, train a little and go their separate ways for the night.

Their romance was not a roaring inferno, but Ranma was content. It was after all the most successful relationship he'd had with any woman and being with her made him happy.

The routine changed one morning when Ranma felt an imbalance in the household as he was leaving for the Mansion. He couldn't put his finger on what caused the imbalance, though and didn't waste more time pondering about it.

When he came to the Mansion, Ranma realized something had happened during the night.

The gates were knocked off the opening.

The paved driveway was uneven and bulky.

And every single defensive laser turret towards the building had been overturned, even the ones hanging from trees.

It looked like an earthquake had taken place at very select areas.

This could only be the work of Lance "Avalanche" Alvers.

That was what was wrong with the Wa of the Brotherhood Boarding House. Lance had come here for some reason, and had disabled the defenses using his powers. He would have to make recommendations about more secure turrets.

But first, he needed to make sure things were fine.

As he came closer to the Mansion, Ranma could sense tension, but no sign of danger, and Lance's aura signature was located in a room of his own.

Having confirmed somewhat that nothing was wrong, Ranma proceeded to the Danger Room where he knew he'd meet with Logan, who would undoubtedly share with him the events leading to the current habitation arrangement.

"Showed up in the middle of the night," Logan explained when Ranma asked. "Triggered every alarm we have and put all the laser turrets in that section out of commission before we could even get out of the Mansion."

"Why?" stressed Ranma. "_Why_ did he show up unannounced at night when everyone was asleep?"

"Said he wanted to join," snorted Logan. "Punk doesn't stand a chance, but Chuck believes in second chances, so he's here on a trial basis, with the New X-Men."

Despite how incredulous the situation seemed, Ranma shrugged it off with very good reason.

Last night, his bike was being finished, which meant he could drive it to school. Nothing puts a spring in one's step like the prospect of finally being allowed to play with a toy gotten long ago but which had been inaccessible.

* * *

Ranma's training was productive; no new holes in his clothes, and finished the simulation in record time.

And the prospect of _finally_ driving his bike caused him to nearly skip up to the kitchen, where the others were getting breakfast.

Without a word, Ranma snatched a piece of toast from the pile, slathered some jam on it and ate it in one bite while pouring himself a glass of water.

"What are you doing here?" demanded a familiar voice.

Ranma turned and was reminded that Lance had moved and not been informed of the arrangements he had made to save time in the mornings. "Training, and now I'm having a quick breakfast." He answered simply, and then swigged the last of his water. "And if she's ready, I'm taking Jean to school."

In response, Jean picked up her book bag and jacket from the back of her chair, and strode over to him, delivering a peck to his lips when she got close enough.

Jean started towards the front door, but Ranma put his arm about her waist and redirected her towards the garage.

"What's going on?" she asked immediately. "I thought we were going to school."

"We are," Ranma agreed cryptically, and opened the door to the garage revealing his bike, with a helmet dangling from the left handlebar.

Apart from the brushed chrome machinery and muffler, the entire bike was matte black, with a ghostly white rearing stallion on each side of the tank.

Each tire was broadened compared to the standard, allowing for better balance and ground contact. The rims were larger, permitting greater acceleration.

The internal parts were vastly different, however, operating on Forge's electrochemical fuel cell; requiring only a few cups of water for each hundred miles.

Unlike most modern motorized vehicles, Ranma's bike did not require a key, and so had an ignition button not unlike wartime jeeps, reducing chances of losing or misplacing keys and shortens the start time. Though, unlike the normal starter buttons, this one was very advanced. Built in was a fingerprint scanner that refused to start the engine if the wrong person attempted to drive it and initiated the security features Ranma had added.

Naturally, Ranma had made sure no part of the bike would wear out or break, even the rubber of the tires.

"Hop on!" Ranma called out enthusiastically, and pulled out a red helmet with a white racing stripe for Jean from the garage locker.

Ranma opened the garage doors, put on his black helmet with red flames, pushed the bike outside with Jean sitting on, curious about why she was asked to get on before him.

As Ranma closed the garage door, he performed a backwards flip with a twist from standing position, landing perfectly in front of Jean before the bike could lose its balance. Pressing the starter button, he got a loud roar that should not have been made with the environmentally friendly motorcycle.

"HANG ON!" he called, and performed a feat of acceleration possible for a Hot Rod drag racer.

Jean screamed as she clung to him, though Ranma was unsure whether it was excitement or horror. To be sure he slowed down to just a hair above the speed limit.

Jean kept screaming as Ranma swerved and weaved in traffic with better precision than a dragonfly, so when they entered the city, he toned down his display of vehicle acrobatics.

When they finally came to a stop in the student parking lot and Ranma got off his bike, he found Jean was comically clinging to his back even as they had ceased moving.

"You can let go now," Ranma chuckled. "We've stopped."

There was no response.

"Of course, I don't mind having you as a backpack, but I think the other students would talk …"

Jean squeaked and jumped off, brushing out wrinkles in her clothes before removing her helmet.

"I'm not one to shirk from walking or running, but if I have to drive, this was a good choice, right?" Ranma probed.

"Very nice," Jean agreed shakily, handing him the helmet. "Please don't be offended, but I'd rather get a ride with Logan back to the Mansion. Your driving was too -er- _lively_ for my liking."

"No problem," Ranma brushed off nervously, sensing something the matter but didn't think it was right to press it.

"See you later," said Jean and gave Ranma another quick kiss before heading for Home Room.

"Yeah," Ranma sighed. Something bad was happening, and he knew he wouldn't like it.

* * *

At the end of the day, after having suffered through school with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, Ranma returned to his bike, preparing to skip his afternoon social gathering with Rogue and Risty to unleash some frustration on a simulation.

On the ground next to his bike lay a man, twitching every few seconds.

A thin plume of smoke rose from the man's clothes.

Shaking his head, Ranma pulled the man from the ground and wrapped an empty bicycle rack around him.

This man had been the victim of his anti-theft security device.

To make sure no one could start the engine, Forge had installed the finger-print recognition pad into the starter button. Ranma had added some seals to it, making it also recognize aura, in case this Mystique or someone with similar gifts tried to fool the scanner.

Should anyone but the rightful owner or user attempt to start the engine, the wheels and kickstand would adhere to the ground, forcing whomever the thief was to take a good chunk of asphalt or rock along with the bike. To discourage this, a field of static electricity would spring into being around the bike, increasing in strength and intensity with each attempted approach until Ranma came and deactivated it in person.

Looking at the criminal, Ranma decided that getting a little singed was not going to be sufficient punishment. If he just left him there, he'd somehow get out and not learn his lesson.

Whipping out his Calligraphy set, Ranma went about writing a series of seals on the man's face in five quick strokes with his brush.

"What are you doing?"

Turning his head, Ranma saw Jean approaching him.

Maybe she changed her mind about riding with him?

"Teaching this guy to stop stealing," he announced and stowed away his Calligraphy set.

Moving aside, Ranma revealed that all the ink he had smeared across the thief's face had moved to his forehead, spelling out the word "THIEF" in bright red letters.

It almost appeared as though the letters were glowing with intensity.

"How is face painting going to teach him a lesson?" questioned the redhead.

"This is more permanent than face paint, more like a temporary tattoo. It'll wear off in a little more than a year …"

"What?"

"That's not all," continued Ranma proudly. "It can't be removed surgically or even with a skin graft transplant. If he tries to cover it up, it will warm up until it starts burning like a jellyfish sting or ten, forcing him to uncover it. Now everyone he meets will know what he is, and that he isn't trustworthy. If that doesn't teach him a lesson, I don't know what will."

"Isn't that a little cruel?" Jean asked. "Couldn't you just turn him in?"

"He'd be out again by the end of the day," Ranma argued in what he hoped was the tone of a reasonable person. It wasn't really necessary to add that he wasn't very trusting of the local police after his last run-in with them.

"I guess …"

"What's wrong?" Ranma finally asked, knowing he'd regret it. "You've been acting a little distant lately."

"I don't think this is the place-"

"Sure it is," Ranma gently persisted. "We're alone in a parking lot with early rush traffic drowning out speech outside of a few meters, and this guy will be unconscious for another hour."

"Ranma, please …"

"It'll come up sooner or later," continued Ranma. "I can tell it's important. But if you want to wait-"

"I don't think this is working out," Jean blurted.

"You're right, we can wait …" Ranma agreed.

"No, I mean _us_. I don't think this relationship is working out," Jean corrected sadly. "I'm sorry, but I think we need to break up."

"Really?" sighed Ranma, hiding the fact that he felt like a wrecking ball had struck him in the stomach very well.

"We can still be friends," offered jean quickly. "You know, hang out, watch movies or get some fast food every now and again …"

"Sure," accepted Ranma sadly. "We can be friends …"

"Great," Jean breathed in relief and gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," assured Ranma in what he unsuccessfully tried to pass off as an untroubled dismissal. Damned be his macho instincts for forcing such a reaction on him. Then again, he didn't want to start gasping for air and appear weak when faced with rejection. Damn his father for molding him into the "manly" man he had become, not showing emotions or fears in public.

Jean looked uncertain about leaving, but she still did; she had cheer-leading practice to attend.

As soon as the redheaded young woman disappeared from sight, Ranma fell to his knees and slammed his fists into the ground, creating a pair of surprisingly large craters and setting off several car alarms in the distance.

They had only been together for a couple of months, and even if he was content with Jean, Ranma had known they wouldn't spend eternity together; so why did it _hurt_ so much that they weren't together anymore?

* * *

Helping Logan and McCoy fix the defensive turrets took Ranma's mind off the mild depression he had settled into during the drive to the Mansion. But it wasn't hard for the two to notice his lethargic manner of work.

"What's eatin' you, kid?" Logan grunted around his cigar as he righted the turret affectionately known as the "toaster" due to its toaster-like appearance. It also worked like the toasting device in shooting out things from inside, but instead of lightly singed bread this thing shot out spinning buzz-saw blades.

"Yes, you seem very upset about something," McCoy agreed, and started filling in the gaps around the base with dirt. "Is it a matter of the _heart_?"

"We broke up," Ranma admitted sadly before shaking the memories off and righting an overturned tree containing another "toaster".

"That's tough," agreed Logan in a tone that could barely pass for sympathy. Of course, it's difficult to sound caring when one is supporting a piece of heavy machinery that is just below your strength limit.

"Indeed," added McCoy. "But 't'is better to have loved and lost', in time your heart will mend, and be ready for another round of Amore."

"Doesn't feel like it," snapped Ranma, referring to the quote.

"Suck it up, kid," Logan barked and released the turret as McCoy signaled his task complete. "You two were an item for a few weeks. When you've had a serious relationship lasting several years before it went sour, you've got my permission to start bawlin', but 'till then, be a man and move on. Just don't do something stupid and get a rebound girlfriend. You'll only do something you regret, possibly for years to come."

"Now, Logan there's no need to take such a harsh point of view," admonished McCoy as he started filling in the holes around the tree Ranma was holding up. "True, it would seem the 'manly' thing to do is to move on, but take the time to go through the proper stages of grief. There is denial."

"Done it," grunted Ranma as McCoy accidentally put extra weight on the tree instead of stabilizing it. He referred, of course to needing verification of the end from Jean.

"Anger," McCoy continued.

"Left a couple of holes in the student parking lot," informed Ranma.

"Bargaining, though this might be skipped depending on the context and feasibility of such a thing …"

"Does wondering 'Why' count?"

"It could," mused McCoy as he used his super-human strength to harden the soil he had added. "Then there's depression, which by your lethargic efforts indicate you have entered."

"Bravo," Ranma flatly congratulated the blue beast.

"And finally, acceptance."

"I wasn't the only person in that relationship," Ranma stated, and clapped his hands to get rid of some dirt. "I'm not going to make her miserable just to keep myself content."

"Hmm … you seem to have passed through the stages rather quickly for someone who suffered from a broken heart," McCoy pondered.

"I've known all along we weren't 'soul-mates' or anything," clarified Ranma. "But I've had fun, and I think she did as well. The last few days she became more distant. I guess I knew all along what was coming … subconsciously, at least. Still hurts."

"I know," the blue beast sympathized and put an arm around Ranma in a companionable embrace. "We've all experienced it. I have a theory that it is part of human nature to have such experiences. It is said that a man is forged through the suffering and adversity he endures. Think of this not as the end of a relationship, but another step on the path to adulthood, to becoming a more well-rounded person."

"Enough mushy stuff," Logan interrupted. "We've got about ten more turrets to go, and daylight is fading fast."

"Okay," agreed Ranma, feeling somewhat better after having aired his inner turmoil. "But if Lance keeps this up, I'll be forced to permanently disable him. I like a good work-out as much as the next guy, but I'm not going to clean up his mess for as long as I live."

* * *

Author's Notes: My apologies if the heartache bit seems wrong; the closest thing I've ever had to it was a crush I had that rejected me without confronting me about it. I found out about it through my sister. Apparently I frightened her, which came as a big surprise to me. I was violently discouraged, and have no experience with love or relationships, so if I'm wrong, let me know and I'll see about fixing it.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	16. Book 2 Chapter 13 Reunion and Sirens

Posted: Wednesday 30 April 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Thirteen – Reunion and Sirens

* * *

Time heals all wounds, as the saying goes. And while it also applies to wounds of the figurative heart, these wounds have a tendency to rip open with hardly any provocation, thus taking a lot longer to heal in most cases than regular wounds.

Ranma had braved the days since his break-up with Jean silently, only speaking when spoken to; a fact his teachers were made aware of, as well of the cause for it. They were very understanding and didn't ask him questions more than once or twice in class, but logically couldn't cut every student with heartache a lot of slack because teenagers fall in and out of love faster than some people change their socks. Ranma was only trying not to fall into the destructive downwards spiral of depression. After all, he had known all along that his relationship with Jean wasn't a permanent thing.

Jean had been true to her word, and a few days after the incident, she started offering to join Ranma, Rogue and Risty on outings and other such activities, backing down if there seemed to be a general disagreement about it.

Scott was surprisingly considerate about the break-up. Unlike what Ranma had expected, the boy didn't gloat or rub Ranma's face in the ordeal, but rather kept his mouth shut, following the adage of not saying anything at all if he didn't have anything nice to say. In exchange for this kindness, Ranma left a few suggestions on Scott's desk concerning better control of his optic beams. Ranma fully expected that Scott burned the note once he saw who made the suggestions, but he had at least repaid the consideration in his own way.

To extend his kindness further, Ranma also gave Jamie Maddox a few tips on better control of his cloning ability. At the boy's young age, it wasn't certain that he'd have the patience to follow the tips, but they'd be of great help to him once he was able to calm down some.

Lance had moved back to the Boarding House after an incident where the New X-Men had gone on joy rides in various vehicles found at the Mansion, and framed him for it. He would rather move back where he knew where he stood.

But through it all, Ranma managed to recover somewhat by the time his routine came to a grinding halt one night as he returned to the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House.

Upon entering the house, Ranma noted that there was an argument taking place in the TV room.

Thinking nothing of it, as it was a regular incidence due to the limited selection of channels and a clash of schedules was bound to occur, Ranma was halfway up the stairs when he heard a voice that didn't belong.

"I don't care how you feel, I am not leaving until I see Ranma."

The matter-of-fact tone of this statement was very familiar, but Ranma couldn't quite place it. Still, having heard his name mentioned, he turned around and went to see what the hubbub was about.

Standing around the sofa was the rest of the resident male population, blocking Ranma's view of whoever was there to see him.

"What's going on?" he asked as he entered, noting that the TV was not on, and Tabitha was absent.

The four boys parted like the red sea, revealing the young woman sitting on the sofa. She had dark brown hair, sharp features and eyes to match, calculating everything around her. She looked somewhat more haggard than normal, but it was clear who this was.

"Nabiki," greeted Ranma once he recognized her. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet your future sister-in-law?" chided Nabiki in mock insult. The four boys already in the room went silent in shock at this revelation.

"It's how I greet _you_," corrected Ranma. "And Akane broke things off before I left. You won't be my sister-in-law."

"This is where your father would have me interject about family honor, but frankly, I'm too tired. I get your bed and you can have the floor," yawned Nabiki and made to follow through on her statement.

"I think not," Ranma interjected, stopping the young woman before she could walk past him. "That's my room, and I'm not going to let you boss me around in it. If I have to, I'll pay for your hotel room for the night, and _only_ the room."

"My, Ranma-chan. You seem to have gotten quite forceful over the past months," smirked Nabiki. "But I'm sure I can persuade you to see things my way …"

"If you want to sleep outside, be my guest," affirmed Ranma sternly. "But you're not getting my bed, you wouldn't want the couch, and I'm not paying for room service, Mini Bar, telephone bills or Pay-Per-View TV. Take my offer or leave it."

Nabiki stared at him, looking for any sign of doubt or lost resolve. The tension was palpable. "Okay, Saotome. You win this round."

"Good, my bike's just outside, I don't have an extra helmet, though so you should hold on tight," declared Ranma and left the house without taking in Nabiki's surprised look.

"You've got a bike?" she called after him and jogged out after him, most likely expecting to see a bicycle. She would have been wrong to expect this, of course.

"Yeah, won it in a bet," Ranma explained and removed the kickstand. "Get on, unless you want to run behind me?"

Getting on, Nabiki couldn't help but admire the vehicle. "Whoever you won this off of must be loaded," she commented before Ranma revved up the engine.

"Yes and no," corrected Ranma mysteriously. "His job pays well enough, not a lot, but he doesn't have many expenses. And the bet was a tie, so I had to work off my end as an instructor …"

Any further conversation was drowned out by the engine. One of the reasons Ranma decided to have an engine sound added was to give the illusion of a _normal_ combustion engine. It was a macho thing, yes, but useful in drawing attention like other bikes thus keeping it inconspicuous and the noise would keep people from speaking in its vicinity.

The nearest hotel was halfway across town, but the journey went by quickly, and Ranma wasted no small-talk as he paid for one room for one night.

He barely gave himself time to hand Nabiki the key card before leaving. He was tired after a long day, and there would be plenty of time for conversation after school tomorrow.

True, he could replenish himself through the conversion of chi into ki, but it was still a crude version of what that ancient monk could have done before his untimely demise, and the process took far too much time to be effective. This reminded him that it might be time to look more into improving this technique as well.

So many things to do, so little time.

* * *

The next day progressed relatively normal, with the exception of Ranma's stop at the hotel on the way to school where he left a message in the lobby, telling Nabiki to wait for him.

Ranma's friends could tell he was dreading something, and asked him about it.

"Nothing big," he assured the girls. "Just someone from Japan here to visit and probably try to talk me into returning …"

It goes without saying that Rogue and Risty were somewhat surprised to hear this, but it was the only thing he would say at the time, for fear of one of them stalking him to persuade Nabiki to go away once he met up with her again.

As soon as school was out, Ranma headed for the hotel, where Nabiki was waiting in the lobby with her luggage. Check-out time having been a few hours earlier, she wasn't very pleased with the wait.

"You took your sweet time," she commented sourly.

"I'm sorry my scholastic career is less important than your quest," Ranma sarcastically apologized. "I came as soon as school let out."

"School, hah, don't make me laugh, Saotome" scoffed Nabiki. "You couldn't care less about school. I bet you spend the time sleeping and bothering the teacher with your snoring."

"I'll have you know my grades are just below the best in my year," Ranma retorted proudly. "I'd be on top if I applied my full skills in PE and spent fifteen minutes more a day on homework."

"Sure, Saotome," snorted the middle Tendo daughter in disbelief. "I'm getting hungry, let's continue while you buy me lunch."

"What makes you so sure I'll buy you lunch, or anything else?" Ranma countered.

"Your sense of honor wouldn't allow me to starve if you could help it," Nabiki announced confidently. "And that honor is the reason I'll win against your reluctance in returning to Japan."

"You might be right," conceded Ranma in resignation. "About the food, at least. I'm happier here than in Nerima, so I'm not going to give in that easily."

Saving any further banter or discussion for later, Ranma directed Nabiki to the Bayville Mall, where they quickly found the food court and ordered their separate meals. Nabiki a salad and diet cola, while Ranma ordered three different menus for himself.

"So, how did you get a license for your bike?" probed Nabiki, spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork.

"Don't know if I'm allowed to say," Ranma replied and finished off a Double-Decker burger. "It's legal, and not my only one."

"Not the only one?" Nabiki prodded. "You've got more?"

"Well, there's the regular driver's license, boat license, helicopter certificate, fighter jet documentation, and most recently a license to teach in Martial Arts," Ranma recited, eating small handfuls of fries for each example. As he ended, he made a face and upended a small packet of salt over the plate, then shook the plate to distribute the condiment better. "I'm still waiting for approval for a firearms' permit."

Nabiki stared silently at him, mouth open and fork dangling dangerously from her hand, the lettuce forgotten.

"And then I have to work on my college application essay f-"

"_College_?" Nabiki demanded. "You're a year away this summer!"

"I know, Professor Xavier keeps reminding me that I should have started it sooner, what with all my activities …" Ranma sighed. "Anyway, I believe you were about to continue to convince me into returning to Nerima."

"Yes-"

"Hey, Ranma!" interrupted a familiar voice. Jean approached the table with a touch of caution. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, this is just an acquaintance from Japan, here to visit for a day or two," Ranma brushed off, taking care to hide his suddenly tightening chest under a mask of cheer, something he had gotten better at over the past month, though still not good enough to hide his discomfort completely. "Jean, this is Nabiki. Nabiki, this is Jean. Would you care to join us?"

"I'd better not, I have some errands to run before I do my homework," Jean politely declined, apparently picking up on Ranma's discomfort.

"Maybe another time, then?"

"Sure thing," Jean smiled kindly, then turned the smile at Nabiki. "Nice to meet you!"

"Who was that?" Nabiki demanded in a drawl, her face settling into a serious expression after faking pleasantness with Jean.

"That was Jean, my ex-girlfriend," confessed Ranma, watching the redheaded girl until she was out of sight.

"My, you _have_ been busy, Saotome," Nabiki praised, though Ranma felt it wasn't a sincere compliment. "I wonder what your _fiancees_ and parents would say about this …"

"My romantic life is no business of yours, Nabiki," Ranma practically snarled. "Nor that of my family and acquaintances. I won't accept you selling information about this to them."

"Come now, Saotome," chided Nabiki coyly. Rooting through her purse, she located what she was looking for. "I'm sure I can make you see things my way. Unless you want to see this picture of a; KITTEN!"

As she announced this, she thrust a Polaroid image of an adorable kitten in Ranma's face.

Ranma leaned his head to look around the image and quirked a brow.

"Didn't I tell you guys that I'm not afraid of cats any more?" he asked. "I'm sure I mentioned it after I returned from my three-month training trip last summer …"

"No, you didn't," drawled Nabiki sourly, and put away the photo.

"Oh well, now you know," Ranma shrugged. It didn't really matter to him if her attempt at frightening him into submission had failed.

"Ranma!" called another voice.

"What now?" sighed Nabiki. "Another girlfriend?"

"Not really," argued Ranma, and turned his attention to Risty, who came up to the table. "Hi, Risty, finished your homework already?"

"Not yet," Risty corrected sheepishly. "Oh, who's your friend? Another girlfriend, eh?"

"NO!" Ranma exclaimed, before calming himself. "No, this is Nabiki Tendo, a friend of the family. Nabiki, this is Risty, a very good friend."

"Oh, I've heard of you," scowled Risty. "Don't you dare force him to leave if he doesn't want to!"

"He hasn't said no yet," countered Nabiki.

"Regardless, Ranma; Rogue and I were going to see a movie called Equilibrium, but she seems to have found something else to do. Would you care to join me?" Risty suggested, then after a sidelong glance back at Nabiki added, "You can bring _her_ if you want."

"Doesn't sound like it's my style …" Ranma hesitated.

"It's got lots of fighting, and unusual gun-play," Risty added in a sing-song tone, clearly baiting him into going.

It worked.

The girls barely managed to register Ranma getting up from his seat, and quickly found themselves pulled by their arms to the nearest movie theater.

"What are you waiting for?" he demanded eagerly.

* * *

Ranma ended up paying for the tickets, simply because Risty wasn't fast enough for his tastes in getting out her money, and throughout the movie, Ranma was practically shaking in anticipation to share his opinion with someone.

Nabiki was not as restrained and openly made fun of the physical impossibilities of the stunts performed, as well as the weak plot line and poor screening qualities. Of course, not a lot of this was true, but she still said it, and egged on a lot of shushing, hissing and demands to shut up.

When the movie ended, Ranma had to defend the girl from angry movie-goers out for physical revenge for ruining their movie-going experience.

By the time the issue had been resolved, and Nabiki had gotten her fair share of verbal abuse, Ranma had worked up a bit of frustration, and offered to bring Nabiki to another hotel so he could get some more training done.

"Oh, I'll show her where to go," offered Risty. "She must have brought money and hardly seems to have spent any at all. It's no problem at all."

"I'm not so sure-"

"Oh nonsense, I know where to find the hotels and I haven't lost anyone on my tours yet," Risty insisted brightly.

"Well …"

"I assure you, Ranma, I will bring Ms Tendo exactly where she should be," assured the British girl solemnly, though Ranma failed to note the slight upwards curve of her lips, indicating she had left something out of her statement. "You go have fun on your own. You look like you could need it."

"Thanks Risty, you're the best," smiled Ranma gratefully and started edging away. "See you later, Nabiki."

"But-" Nabiki started.

"Now, now," interrupted Risty before the girl drew Ranma's attention. "I think we need to talk."

Ranma did not see or hear this, nor that Risty took Nabiki somewhere out of sight and sound, and he did not see or hear Nabiki leaving with a very shocked expression, followed by Risty who directed her into the Airbus for the nearest airport.

* * *

Ranma stood across from his opponents as the large blast doors opened, admitting the group his adversaries were part of.

As one, the group stopped upon seeing him.

Weapons were raised, and defensive stances adopted.

Ranma wore what he usually wore to simulations, black pants, boots and a white shirt, with his leather coat covering most of him, but this time he had decided to offer Logan a treat, by unleashing a so far hidden talent in forming a dual-ended sword out of chi instead of allowing the Danger Room to supply him with weapons.

Behind the group, the sky was clear and bright, and surrounding them all were dozens of yellow vehicles waiting to take off.

"We'll handle this," announced a bearded man with long hair calmly as he strode through the crowd.

"We'll take the _long_ way," confirmed a girl, and led a majority of the crowd away, leaving only the bearded man, and a young man with a short haircut that had slim braid emerging from behind his right ear.

In keeping with the solemn setting, the men removed their brown robes, revealing khaki-colored clothes underneath, and Ranma took off his coat, tossing it aside for later retrieval.

From behind a corner, a trio of metal creatures rolled, unfolding into tripod, insect-like droids that were immediately surrounded by nearly translucent, bluish shields, and started firing after the fleeing group, who all traded energy fire with them.

Ranma engaged his weapon by elongating the two blades from the hilt, and his two opponents drew their own swords, though theirs were made from metal and formed blades of light, and had only single blades in them rather than two.

The younger of the two got impatient, and jumped at Ranma with his sword, flipping midway.

Ranma parried and stepped aside.

The older man stepped in while Ranma's back was turned, and Ranma ducked down, allowing the blade of green light to pass harmlessly overhead.

The younger landed and once more engaged Ranma, forcing Ranma into fighting a two-front battle, a scenario that stretches ones resources thin, and divides up more attention to different targets than is healthy, which often leads to defeat for the split force.

Ranma lifted his back blade to parry the incoming blue blade of light, and used the momentum gained from this to knock away the incoming green blade in front, saving his own energy and tiring his opponents out by essentially acting as the middle man in a two-man sparring session.

Repeatedly, Ranma did this, and guided the fight away from the battle that was evolving in the hangar they were fighting in.

When a yellow fighter burst through the hangar with a kid inside, Ranma did his best not to be surprised, and succeeded in knocking away the debris caused by the destruction of two of the droids who hadn't gotten away fast enough to avoid being strafed by the wing.

The old man was fairly acrobatic, though not as much as the younger one and certainly not as much as Ranma, so when he did a springing cartwheel in an attack, Ranma overcame the man in a very simple way that most mathematicians would applaud him for thinking of in such a stressful situation. He applied pressure to the apex of the man's spin by kicking out and hitting a shin, unbalancing the man enough to make him fall violently.

Of course, the man recovered before he was seriously injured by bending his knees and landing on his feet in an improvised kip up.

The younger man made an attempt at blindsiding Ranma with a piece of wreckage from the broken droids, and Ranma was actually surprised. Not at the feat or inconsistency of the scenario, but rather at what he had seen.

With Jean, Ranma was never able to figure out how she could make Telekinesis work. This simulation didn't have any mutant powers, nor was it very good at hiding energy redirection like Jean or Professor Xavier, so it had to improvise somehow. And it was this improvisation that made Ranma realize how to catapult something from stationary position to becoming a projectile.

Trying this new ability out, Ranma managed to deflect the incoming droid leg into a control panel that erupted into a shower of sparks, followed by another set of blast doors opening.

This new opening led to where Ranma realized the scenario had been designed to go, and Ranma went with the flow, fighting backwards onto a bridge over a seemingly bottomless shaft. Glowing pillars of light, part of a generator of some kind on either side of the bridge, lit up the existence of other such crossings on different levels and further down on either side.

Ranma felt his foot hit an edge and his senses told him he was on a protruding platform on the bridge.

A tense moment of silence followed as the two men stood opposite Ranma, waiting to see what he'd do next.

Not wanting to end things so soon by surrendering, as well as not wanting to give the simulation the satisfaction of beating him, no matter if the thing had the capability of feeling anything or not, Ranma performed a strong back-flip onto the bridge ten meters behind him.

The two men were not slow in following him.

Being further in, it was plain to see that some of the bridges were encircling the pillars of light, crisscrossing around in different directions, rather than the singular direction it had seemed upon first entering … maybe he should take the time to take a tour once he was done with this simulation …

A low sweeping kick of Ranma's had the younger man falling off the edge of the bridge, but Ranma didn't have time to worry as the older was intent on making up for the lost assistance by speeding up his own attacks, a feat he was very successful at despite his age and apparent laid-back nature.

The older man almost succeeded in kicking Ranma off the bridge, but a last moment idea had Ranma pushing himself back on with his new-found technique. He overdid it a bit and collided with the long haired, bearded man.

The man was sent flying off, and crashed onto a bridge on the level below.

Ranma was still thirsty for a fight and jumped down after him, splitting his hilt in two, so he now had two separate weapons instead of one.

Ranma's swords went through the bridge like it was made of creamy butter, and the swords were glowing hot. But the older man wasn't there any more, having rolled out of the way before he had any new orifices in his body.

Managing to easily pull out one sword, Ranma stopped the man's sword from splitting him in two, and trapped the blade between his first and second.

It almost seemed like Ranma had won, but a sudden buzz in his danger senses had him diving aside as the younger reappeared and repeated what Ranma had done just moments earlier, lodging his blade of light into the bridge not far from the two other holes.

Spinning to his feet, Ranma thrust his blades at both his opponents, and barely missed piercing them because of their excellent reflexes making the bearded man block the blade with his own, and the younger to drop to the ground out of the way.

To distract them, Ranma made a bold move, and slashed the bridge on either side of him, cutting cleanly through the composite metal and used a push from his still crude technique to blast the metal board into the air where he jumped in a forward spin and split the thing in two pieces that fell towards the men below.

Gravity slowed Ranma's ascent, and would have sent him plummeting back down if not for him grabbing the bridge above him.

Kicking the underside of the bridge while still holding on, Ranma flipped onto it, and looked down as the severed bridge pieces drove the two men back, now separated by a four-foot gap in their bridge and two metal plates protruding like headstones.

The simulation world dissolved around Ranma, leaving several platforms extended from the walls, one of which, Ranma stood on, and one below having been sliced apart much like he had done in the simulation.

Jumping to the ground before the room reset itself to its standard configuration, Ranma glared up towards the control room hanging above him.

"What's the deal, Logan?" he demanded. "I could still beat them!"

"Logan had nothing to do with this, child," the soothing voice of Ororo Munro countered. "I ended the simulation because I think you and I need to have a talk."

"What happened to Logan?" Ranma asked suspiciously, using his new technique to pull his coat back to him, almost like a yoyo or lasso, not something as controlled or precise as the telekinesis Jean was gifted with. With time, perhaps he'd improve.

"I asked him to leave," Storm confessed, though her assertiveness didn't waver. "And though I am impressed with your training, this is a sorely needed talk that you've been avoiding for weeks. Meet me in my room in five minutes. Don't be late."

"This can't be good," Ranma realized with dread.

Sighing in dejected resignation, Ranma draped his coat over his left shoulder and strode towards the Danger Room exit, head held high and shoulders set. He would face this with as much dignity as he could.

Stopping just before the now open doorway, Ranma turned and scowled at the middle of the room. "This isn't over, we'll finish this later."

The journey through the Mansion to Storm's room was a tense one, given that it appeared he was in for a lecture of some sort. The problem was that he could think of nothing he had done wrong that Storm would know of or tell him off for. Not that she really had this kind of authority over him, but when a woman wants to yell at or lecture a man about something, come Hell or high water she'd get it done one way or another. Best to get it out of the way before adding to the initial ire.

Outside Storm's bedroom door, Ranma stopped, took a deep breath to brace himself then knocked.

"Enter," Ororo's voice rang through the closed door, and Ranma turned the handle.

Inside, Ororo was sitting on her bed, waiting patiently for Ranma to enter fully.

"Have a seat," she continued and indicated a spot next to her.

Tentatively, Ranma sat down, folding his coat over his lap.

"Do you know why I asked you to come?" Ororo asked.

"No," Ranma replied dutifully. He decided to keep in the snappy comment about her interrupting his training. He didn't want to irritate her into repeating the action simply to get back at him.

"First off, I wanted to thank you again for saving me from the Houngan," Storm started. "Without your help, I would undoubtedly have lost my powers to his magic and the X-Men would have been forced to fight the power of the elements as well as the warriors under his command. I am very grateful to you for this, and apologize for not thanking you sooner."

"Not a problem," Ranma brushed off. "I learned a new stealth technique and got the Professor to improve on security to detect that technique. All in a day's work."

"It was still very brave," insisted Ororo. "Now on to the main reason I wanted to speak with you."

'_Uh oh,'_ thought Ranma. _'Here it comes.'_

"I heard about you and Jean breaking up, and I wanted to see how you're doing," Storm announced, taking the liberty of placing a hand on Ranma's shoulder. "I've seen you moping every now and again over the last week. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Ranma replied instantly.

"No you're not," Storm persisted firmly. "Brooding isn't being fine. And though I have no real responsibility towards you like I do the others, I would like it if you trusted me enough to come to me with your problems, whether they are emotional or physical."

Caught in a possible conflict, Ranma relented and gave up a minor confession. At least it would be minor compared to most of his baggage. "Fine. I'm just sad. I was feeling content, happy even, being with her. I knew we weren't _meant_ to be, or anything like that. I'm sure she knew as well, but I had hoped we could last longer, and that I wouldn't be so upset about it."

"There, was that so bad?" consoled Ororo soothingly, even if Ranma hadn't shown any outward sign of despair.

"Not really," Ranma agreed.

"And don't you think it would have felt worse if you two had been together longer than you were?" prodded Storm.

"Maybe."

"So you see it might have been for the best that you broke it off when you did?" confirmed the white-haired woman.

"Yeah," sighed Ranma. "It still hurt, though."

"I would have been surprised if it didn't," assured Storm. "But at least you ended it on friendly terms."

"Yeah."

"Now, I hear you left a few notes around the Mansion," Storm continued slyly, clearly leading away from the wounding topic. "Is there any particular reason you decided to help Scott and Jamie get better control over their powers?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," denied Ranma.

"I read them, Ranma," the woman countered. "They were in your handwriting, and Jamie said he saw you near Scott's room for a brief moment before you left last weekend. What truly surprises me is that you had such insight into Scott's Optical Beams that you left a few exercises for him to try. How did you figure that out? Even Charles was unable to get a firm reason for Scott's lack of control, yet you put enough effort into devising a way for two students to improve without having an active mutation or having any obvious motives."

"Fine," Ranma sighed again and looked out the open window where the fading daylight was coloring the horizon in magnificently warm colors. "See that tree near the wall on the far side of the grounds?"

"Do you mean the tree with a drooping sick branch near the bottom of the trunk?" Storm asked, squinting to clearly make out its details.

"That's the one," agreed Ranma. "Watch closely."

With a squint of his own, Ranma fired off twin beams of translucent red energy from his eyes, both beams being slimmer than a pencil and converging to a single focus point on the tree.

Though she was surprised, Storm followed the red lines to see them moving down the sick branch.

When the beams ceased to be, she was surprised to see the branch fall off; white smoke rising from the severed ends for a moment before a natural gust of wind cooled the heat.

"How?" was all Storm could think to ask.

"I saw Scott use his power a few times," shrugged Ranma. "The simplest way to explain it is that I force power through my retina as though it was sunlight through a magnifying lens. I've just refined it a little to suit my needs and abilities so I won't wear myself out or cause unnecessary damage …"

"And you're sure your gift hasn't activated yet?" Storm supposed.

"Positive," Ranma agreed. "I started figuring it out before the last time I was checked and I discovered a few other new techniques that I don't think we need to bring up just yet."

"If you're sure," Storm agreed uncertainly. "Well, I've taken up enough of your time. It's about the time you usually head back to the Boarding House. You know we've got a room reserved for you, right?"

"I know," assured Ranma. "I might consider it after this semester when my term as Exchange Student ends, but not before then. This doesn't mean I'm joining the team, though. I work alone."

* * *

As Ranma headed back to the Bayville Brotherhood Boarding House, he passed an Electronics shop, where the news was displayed in the window on the newest in High Definition Televisions.

He only briefly saw a pair of thugs being escorted by the police, in the background was what looked like an improvised prison made from cinder blocks on a construction site. There was a flaming car at the scene as well.

The image changed back to the anchorperson, with the subtitle of "Bayville Sirens – Female Vigilantes Formed – Carjackers Apprehended, Claim Super Powers Were Used" rolling along the bottom of the screen.

* * *

Author's Notes: As prophesied, I recently started my job in the current Owens Corning (soon to be 3B) fiber glass production in Norway. Seven and a half hours of grueling work (excluding lunch which lasts half an hour), hundreds of tiny pin-pricks all over my hands, dozens of shallow cuts from cardboard edges and thin fiber glass, pants covered in what deceptively looks like spider webbing or cotton candy and aching feet from standing on them all day while lifting and pushing around heavy loads. Worst of all, there were few enough lulls in my work/learning load that I had no time to spare for fanfiction pondering. Not that I'd recommend thinking of anything but work while handling heavy machinery or sharp objects.

I know some may be surprised I had Ranma play Darth Maul in the short Star Wars scenario I added, but it is mostly due to the added challenge of facing two opponents of great skill, rather than fighting one on the team of another skilled one. Does this make sense? I am also aware of the changes I made to this scenario, Anakin blasted the droids apart, he didn't run them over. I just thought it sounded more amusing.

I am also aware of Ranma having had a similar conversation with Logan and Hank earlier, but Storm might not know of this, or didn't find it valid enough as they were just three guys hanging out. Any emotion shared there would be watered down or played down etc. I don't really know what reason to use, but I had the conversation even so.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	17. Book 2 Chapter 14 Raving Teens

Posted: Monday 02 June 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Fourteen – Raving Teens

* * *

When Ranma returned to school the next day, he met with Risty and was very surprised with what she had to say.

"She just left?" he questioned in disbelief.

"Yes," confirmed Risty. "She bought a bus ticket to the airport and just left. Can't think why, though …"

"That doesn't make much sense," Ranma muttered.

"Not everything we do makes sense," countered Risty. "Does it make sense trading goods for a few leafs of processed wood? Or referring to telephone conversations across the world as though you've traveled the entire distance on foot when all you did was lift up a plastic casing for a cluster of circuits and wires?"

"I guess you're right," sighed Ranma. "Well, that's one less thing for me to worry about."

"That's the spirit," Risty agreed and playfully punched Ranma's shoulder. "Now finish your lunch! People are starting to fear it's poisoned, what with how you normally scarf it down!"

Chortling at the attempted joke, Ranma finished his lunch, and continued to carry a pleasant conversation with Risty about everything, nothing and the movie they'd seen.

Rogue joined them at one point, but she seemed lost in thought, and Ranma didn't want to pry into her personal life. Though she had been acting a little odd these past couple of days.

And she had spent a lot more time with the other mutant girls who either resided or used to live at the Mansion than she used to.

"Hey," a new voice called, drawing Ranma from his musing.

Turning, Ranma saw one of Jean's soccer team mates, and fellow cheerleader. Long, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes and a perky disposition.

"You're Ranma, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Ranma answered slowly, uncertain about why she was talking to him when only a handful of students at Bayville High had done so voluntarily.

"Mind if we talk?" the girl queried, sparing Risty and Rogue a look. "Alone."

"Sure …"

Uncertainly, Ranma followed the Asian girl out of the cafeteria into the corridor.

Once out of general sight, the girl turned to him with an expectant smile.

"As you know, the Shadow Dance is only a few days away, and I don't have a date yet. So, will you go with me?" she blurted.

"The what?" Ranma puzzled.

"The Shadow Dance," the girl explained. "It's in a couple of days, and I'd like you to go with me."

"Why me?"

"Well, you're the Asian bad-boy of the school, which is exciting," the girl reasoned. "Jean dated you for a while, which means you must be somewhat decent as well, and my parents would feel better about me dating an Asian boy than a white one. Plus you've got a cool bike!"

"Not very good reasons," Ranma commented and turned to leave.

"I put out," the girl added hastily, even desperately and pulled Ranma back. "And check out my underwear!"

Without provocation or prompting, the girl pulled up her skirt, showing to Ranma what looked like a piece of cloth adhered to the skin, no strings or sides holding it in place. Due to his fascination with this new undergarment, Ranma would later find out that this was what was known as a c-string pubikini, and it was almost transparent red.

Somehow, Ranma managed to express that he didn't want to go to the dance at all, and that she shouldn't go around flaunting her privates like that, before leaving feeling very uncomfortable and using his best bodily control to keep his problem from being noticeable.

The slight flush on his face, however, was more eye-catching and was the only reason the girl didn't get doubts of Ranma's sexual preferences for his rejection.

He was actually flustered enough over the incident that he went straight on to class and didn't talk to anyone for the remainder of the school day.

However, on the way to the Mansion a little later, having seen the mutant girls run off somewhere, Ranma decided that some battling would be the best cure.

* * *

Standing on the battlements of a fortified refuge in the mountain-side, Ranma looked out onto the surly, dirty and ugly forces that just stood there in the valley, waiting for the battle to commence.

Ranma was wearing a modified version of his normal attire, changed to fit in with the time and place of this scenario.

Most of it was taken from books, but a good deal of appearance had been borrowed from the movie. Ranma could hardly wait for the second one to be out so he could see it and compare it to what he was doing.

The hostile forces numbered in the thousands, enough to color most of the valley before the fortress black as the light began to fail.

The defenders had no more than a few hundred, most of which were old, frail men or young boys barely old enough to have acne let alone lifting a sword to fend off an attacking army of monsters.

A little down the battlement, Ranma heard a melodic voice talking to someone with a gruff voice, arguing over which would slay more of the enemy before them.

Unannounced, a crack of thunder roared above the valley, the only warning they had before rain fell upon them all in torrents that came close to being painful.

Glaring up at the sky, Ranma shook the wet hair around and grumbled about getting revenge.

"Screw this, it's taking too long," Ranma announced and lifted the heavy bow she had equipped herself with.

With a fistful of arrows, she let the cluster fly, piercing dozens of Uruks in that single volley, and initiating the battle sooner than anticipated.

As soon as her arrows ran out, Ranma threw away the bow, pulled from her back a huge long-sword not unlike the zanbatō of a villain turned good in her favorite inspirational Manga, and then dove into the mass of uruk-hai below with a resounding battle-cry just as lightning flashed behind her, creating quite the intimidating image for her soon-to-be-victims.

Up on the battlements, the humans and Elves watched in morbid fascination as the redheaded wench dove into the horde of beast. Surely such an action would be suicide. And what had possessed the woman to leave the caves with the other women and unfit for battle?

Down on the ground, Ranma was cutting loose in more ways than one.

The sword flashed as it slashed Uruks apart at various angles, not taking heed of armor or shields.

The lack of resistance at the front pushed the next line of Uruks forward as those behind were thirsty for battle and blood. Another flash of metal followed and yet more Uruks fell to pieces with surprised expressions on their horrible features.

One creature attempted to rush her from behind as she focused on a cluster of Uruks and orcs, but suddenly found himself unconscious as the pummel of the several feet-long sword smashed his face in.

Another group was skewered by arrows fired from the battlement, reminding those fighting Ranma that there were others present who posed a threat.

Ranma soon distracted the horde from the battlements by cutting a swath through them as easily as a farmer cutting down wheat, not stopping for more than a second at a time.

Every motion she made was connected to the last and the next, and none of her swipes missed a target.

"I should really use a sword more often," Ranma commented and followed a swipe with a sort of pirouette that made her look like a whirlwind of sharp steel. Several heads detached from their rightful bodies, and the stupid creatures started understanding that approaching the redhead was not very effective to the war efforts.

But even with the beastly things avoiding her like the plague, Ranma followed them closely and mowed them down.

After ten minutes of this massacre, the Uruks knew true fear for the first time in their measly existence, far surpassing the fear instilled in them by Saruman and the consequences of defying his orders. They fled, half their numbers already chopped or skewered by sword and arrow.

Out of nowhere, a forest appeared at the end of the valley where the foul creatures were fleeing, and Ranma felt a chill run down her spine upon seeing it. She stopped just outside, in time to hear crunching noises inside, screams, squeals and horrified whimpers.

The horrible effect of the sounds was magnified by the darkness of night, which had fallen during battle. Though some light still burned below the horizon as it always did in late spring.

Behind her was a black, bloody battlefield, and emerging from Helm's Deep were the men of Rohan with their king and part of the broken Fellowship of the Ring.

A roar of cheers rose from the keep, signifying their victory against impossible odds.

* * *

A damp Ranma stomped into the Danger Room's Control Room and glared at the white-haired woman who was smirking kindly back at her next to Logan.

"I don't like you," Ranma growled, and proceeded straight for the coffee machine set aside in one corner. It also featured plain hot water for tea, and poured a cup of scalding hot water over her head.

"Come now," Ororo smiled. "The whole point of your training is to encounter the unexpected, isn't it?"

"That's not the sort of unexpected event I'm training for," countered the now male Ranma.

"Unexpected is unexpected, kid," Logan disagreed, smirking around a toothpick, which he chewed on mainly because the professor didn't like him smoking cigars inside.

"You're right," Ranma agreed in a defeated sigh. "I guess I'll just go back to playing Halo. Which button was it agai- oops!"

The rather unconvincing noise of surprise was uttered as while locating the correct simulation, Ranma nudged Storm towards Logan.

Both reacted to the sudden momentum, but rather than avoiding the collision, their actions only caused Ororo to smash her face into Logan's, resulting in a kiss that lingered for several moments in surprise.

Feeling quite smug, Ranma abandoned his act of locating the correct simulation to watch his staged event unfold.

The surprise gave way to embarrassment, then the two adults managed to pull apart to send unhappy looks at the one responsible.

"Don't dish out what you can't take," Ranma declared smugly.

"How about we see just how much you can take," suggested Logan and popped out the claws on his right hand in a semi-threatening gesture.

Thankfully, the tension was interrupted by the timely arrival of Kitty.

"Ranma! I need a favor!" the girl hastily announced.

"What?" Ranma replied, somewhat more refreshed by getting his revenge.

"There's this really creepy guy at school who wants to take me to the Shadow Dance, and he just won't take no for an answer!" the girl explained desperately.

"And you want me to kill him, sure," Ranma joked, though he kept his tone very serious.

"NO!" Kitty refused quickly. "I want you to take me to the Dance so the guy will get the hint and leave me alone."

"Sounds like a worthy cause if there ever was one," Storm agreed. "Do you have a dress ready? You have to make sure to match each other, you know."

"I haven't agreed yet," Ranma chipped in. "And I turned down a very tempting offer earlier today already."

"The whole school knows about that," Kitty confirmed.

"Really?" Ororo queried.

"Oh yeah," Kitty elaborated. "He turned down the school slut, even after she flashed him her panties. The guys think he's gay for turning down a sure thing, the girls think he's a romantic saving himself for Miss Right. So what do you say?"

Ranma couldn't stand to see the girl with her pleading doe eyes, and turned his head. "Fine, just stop looking at me like that!"

"Great!" the girl cheered. "I'll get you a list of acceptable colors at school tomorrow!"

"Why do I feel the approach of imminent doom?" Ranma deadpanned.

"Because you just agreed to a date," Logan interjected. "And to a dance, no less. That's very heavy, just below going to a graduation or a wedding, if I'm not mistaken."

"Crap," summarized Ranma succinctly.

"It could be worse," Ororo consoled, though she seemed triumphant in doing so. "She could have believed what the boys of your school seem to think about you for declining the earlier offer …"

"Oh great, now I have to endure being called derogatory names at school," groaned Ranma. "And they'll get worse the next time I refuse to participate in group events during PE, or the next time I refuse to shower with the guys ..."

"It's tough being different," agreed Logan and discarded his toothpick into the nearest waste receptacle. "But you're made of sterner stuff than them. A little name calling won't break you."

"But I might break them," argued Ranma. "Though I've got the problem in hand most of the time, my first instinct to insults and attacks is to retaliate with equal or stronger force. Enough insults will break through my restraint, and someone could get hurt if it turns into a fight.

"I'm getting tired," Ranma continued in a slower and controlled tone after having been at near ranting levels. "I think I'll just go home."

"You sure you don't want to stay?" Logan queried and started patting his coat for more tooth picks. "The Professor and Hank are planning a scientific experiment with Forge."

"What kind of experiment?"

"Has to do with blue-boy's teleportation gift," Logan grunted and abandoned his search.

"Pass," Ranma sighed. "Tell Forge I said 'Hi', though."

"I'll try to remember it," Logan answered, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath about not being a messenger.

* * *

Ranma stopped by McDonald's on the way back for a couple of orders of Big Macs as his supper, and pulled into a stop outside the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House.

Getting off his bike, Ranma checked one more time that he still had his food in his stuff space, then walked past a large and badly maintained shrub on the corner of the building.

-click!-

It was a small sound that echoed across the unusually empty streets, a sound that didn't belong. A sound Ranma had heard plenty of times before.

It was the sound of the hammer of a revolver being cocked.

"Don't move," a familiar voice threatened.

Defying the command, Ranma turned his head to confirm that it was indeed the Ewing kid who had a gun aimed at his head, barely three feet away. He must have dropped his guard to allow someone with hostile intent get that close.

"You got me expelled," the boy growled.

Ranma ignored the statement and instead focused on the weapon. It was a small piece, by all accounts looking like the standard issue police revolvers he'd seen. And it was well maintained, but had many scratches on it, which meant it was old and though not frequently used would quickly be missed by its owner.

"You were supposed to get deported," the boy continued, his anger very apparent even in his voice. "You were supposed to leave!"

There was a maniacal glint in the boy's eyes as he spoke, alerting Ranma to the fact that Ewing did not intend on letting him leave vertically or alive.

"Instead you ruined my life; my future!" Ewing ranted. "Now people will always know that I got expelled from school because of you and your refusal to cooperate!"

Idly, Ranma wondered what he'd done to set this kid off to start with. He hadn't met him until that first encounter in the school cafeteria, and hadn't done anything to him that he could recall.

"It's all their fault, too," Ewing continued. "Their foolish Racial Nepotism is going to be the fall of this great country!"

Oh great, a fanatic. They were always so much fun to contend with.

"But it ends here, with you," the boy finished in what would have been a very impressive tone, if his voice hadn't cracked and forced the tone half an octave higher in the middle of the word. Being a teenager really put a damper on dramatic moments.

"I don't think so," Ranma corrected.

"Why not?"

"Because you forgot to switch off the safety."

As Ewing doubted himself and checked the revolver, Ranma spun around and grabbed the boy's forearms, twisted them down to aim the weapon at the ground, and was rewarded by the sound of snapping not unlike a handful of wet twigs, followed by an agonized gurgle.

The safety had indeed been turned off. Ranma had lied, taken a risk. It was a calculated risk as there weren't anyone out there to get hit by stray bullets, and this was exactly the sort of situation Ranma had been training to handle for the past months.

As the gun dropped to the ground, along with its wielder, Ranma realized that he would have to call the police, whether he liked it or not.

"Why me?" he groaned and marched for the Boarding House, where he knew there was a phone he could use. Ewing wasn't going anywhere on his own.

* * *

Author's Notes: I initially planned on ending the simulation scene with Ranma leaping off the battlements with her sword, but as the total word count barely surpassed 2200, I had to pad somewhere, and this was the first place where I could fit some padding. Unfortunately, I was unable to add more than about 600 words so this chapter has less than 3000 words. The AN is not included in this count.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation. I also had to copy and paste the chapter from FFnet, as it was missing from the text file for reasons I did not understand. Between the last and next chapter was only the title and an otherwise blank page. I then took a closer look and discovered that the gap was in the posted story as well, but only that I skipped the chapter number 14 in the top text. This has been corrected.


	18. Book 2 Chapter 15 Twisted Minds

Posted: Tuesday 22 July 2008

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Fifteen – Twisted Minds and New Acquaintances

* * *

Ranma was actually impressed with the manner in which the police conducted themselves upon arriving at the scene of the attempted murder.

He still didn't fully trust or like them, but the fact that they listened to his account of the event rather than drawing conclusions scored them an extra point in his book.

The Ewing kid was taken to the hospital with three police officers, and Ranma was escorted to the station so they could record his testimony officially.

As Ranma spoke into the microphone, he did his utmost to keep from exaggerating his accounts of the event, or make it sound as though he thought he was some sort of superhero Martial Arts God. The basic explanation was that he had distracted Ewing by making him insecure in his weapon preparation, then broken his gun arm to prevent him from using the weapon when he found out he'd been tricked.

Simple and believable, but still sounding reckless even when Ranma added into the account that he had trained in Martial Arts since he could walk and was confident he wasn't about to get hit. It wasn't like he could say he'd been training to evade bullets, because then they'd start asking questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

As Ranma was about to leave, an irate man stormed in.

"Why is my son in the hospital?" he demanded of the Chief. "I get a call saying that my son was not only in the hospital, but also under arrest for attempted murder, but no further explanation! There's got to be some kind of misunderstanding! Chief, we've known each other a long time, please tell me what's going on here!"

"Jim, your son aimed a service revolver at someone's head and intended on pulling the trigger," the grave Chief announced. "There's no misunderstanding about that."

"My son wouldn't do something like that," argued James Ewing, as any parent would.

"He _did_," the Chief insisted. "And the trouble he's attempted to stir up for the victim in the past shows that any plans were premeditated. No jury would contest that. He'll be tried as an adult and I'm afraid it'll be a tough sentence for him because of it. I'm sorry, Jim, there's nothing I can do."

"_You_," Mr Ewing deduced darkly, seeing Ranma standing nearby. "You did this."

"Oh boy, not another one …" groaned Ranma, getting tired of people assuming everything was his fault.

"Chief, this kid has had it in for my kid from the moment he set foot in this country, surely no Judge would accept testimony from someone like that," James seethed.

"Preliminary forensic reports indicate that Mr Saotome is telling the truth," the Chief countered. "We're not on a witch hunt here, Jim, we rely on evidence as well as eye-witness accounts. Shoe prints identical to your son's boots were found in the shrubs along the side of the Brotherhood Boarding House, with several freshly extinguished cigarettes matching the brand of the pack found in your son's shirt pocket. We're still waiting for genetics and trace to finish their analysis, but it doesn't look good. Even with as little as our preliminary evidence on these charges, Ronald is headed for the big house for a long time."

"Isn't evidence supposed to be confidential until the trial?" Ranma questioned curiously. At least that is the impression he got from all those lawyer shows and police movies he'd caught glimpse of.

"Jim is a former Lieutenant of this precinct, and gave it up for law. He'll probably be representing his son in court, and as such, I'm duty-bound to present all evidence available," The chief explained carefully. "If I didn't, the case could be thrown out of court for a number of reasons and your assailant would go free."

Mr Ewing snorted and stormed off without another word, clearly insulted at the accusation against his son.

"Watch out for yourself," the Chief warned Ranma. "Jim has a long-standing hatred of the Asian people, which got him suspended a few times while he was an Officer. I wouldn't put it past him to try something borderline illegal to get his son out of trouble, especially given your nationality."

"You wouldn't happen to know _why_ I'm being persecuted for my race, would you?" ventured Ranma.

"I do," the Chief admitted, sitting down on the edge of his desk. "Though I'd rather not have heard it.

"In the latest hearing concerning Jim's irrational and unprofessional behavior against a Chinese suspect in a robbery, Jim's psychologist revealed some disturbing facts about his mental make-up. It seems that Jim's dad was killed during the Korean war."

"So did a lot of other dads, but I find it hard to believe their descendants take their revenge out on innocent Asians for that reason alone," commented Ranma dryly.

"But Jim's dad wasn't killed by the Chinese or North Koreans. He was killed in a seedy Tokyo neighborhood by the Yakuza, over a deep gambling debt he didn't want to pay, apparently," the Police Chief elaborated. "Such a thing could have destabilized the alliance between the US and Japan, even before the media could get a chance to blow it out of proportions. So both governments played it down, and unlike most other children, Jim never got to think of his dad as a hero who died defending his country.

"Naturally, he started hating the Japanese for this, but as many westerners find it difficult to tell apart the Japanese from the Chinese, Korean, Thai or Mongol, he took his hatred out on all of them if he got the chance.

"Had this been known when he joined the Academy, he never would have graduated, and he wouldn't have been promoted to Lieutenant," the Chief finished. "He's normally a very sane and good man, but if someone of Asian descent becomes involved somehow, he loses control."

"Wonderful," sighed Ranma. "Now I've got a battle of the truth against a well prepared pack of lies to contend with."

"Life's one battle after another, and not everyone plays fair," agreed the Chief solemnly.

* * *

While Ranma was recovering from the incident, and _looking forward_ to the Shadow Dance, to which he had foolishly agreed to go with Kitty, another Carnival took place; the traveling kind complete with a circus.

Ranma only went to get some cotton candy. The stuff was sinfully delicious and incredibly difficult to get anywhere but these places. If it was colored pink, okay, Ranma could live with that as long as its taste was satisfactory.

Feeling generous, Ranma bought an extra cone of the sugary goodness for Forge. The kid had been working like mad to figure out the equations and such for Kurt's teleportation ability, but hadn't gotten very far. Though he wasn't really that mushy, Ranma realized he might need a reward or distraction. And what better distraction than a big brightly-colored ball of spun sugar?

As he left, Ranma saw Jean entering the tent of the Mysterious Mesmero, but didn't give it much thought. There were several people standing in line, so the man must be a popular attraction.

* * *

Over the weekend Ranma was as surprised as everyone else to discover that Jean had gone missing.

The only thing that indicated anything amiss in her room was a scary jack-in-a-box. According to Scott, she won it at the carnival. Though the optically limited mutant kept insisting that it was a circus, not a carnival despite the giant posters and signs indicating otherwise.

Though he probably shouldn't, as it could seem like he was joining the X-Men, Ranma couldn't let his former girlfriend remain lost without him pitching in to find her.

To that end, and to prevent Professor Xavier pushing a communicator on him, Ranma bought a cell phone and gave his new number to the bald man so they could contact him with news or progress reports concerning the location of Jean Grey.

It was a simple flip-open phone with some simple games on it as bonus features. Though Ranma only intended to call or send text messages with it, so he had looked for the phone with the least extras but a modern enough one that he wouldn't be laughed out of the store.

He could probably put together something in seals as a means of communications, but it would be too large, bulky and conspicuous.

Other locations already being covered, Ranma opted to search for the missing redhead at the Bayville Mall, which was close to being replaced by the soon-to-be-opened Super Mall. It was unlikely that Jean had gone shopping without telling anyone, but not impossible and Ranma was hoping this would be such a case of improbability made real. It was such a more pleasant alternative to other scenarios.

And him sitting for a short while at the food court was not to indulge his gluttonous stomach capacity, though the table looked like it might groan from the mass of food on it from the various fast-food places, but rather as a focus point for his search, as everyone seemed to pass through at one point or another, making it a very likely place to spot the missing redhead.

After three hours of fruitless searching, and almost a hundred dollars in food, Ranma decided that Jean was not to be found at the mall, and got ready to leave.

-BRRRRING!-

The new cell phone in Ranma's pocket rang in the tone of an old-fashioned rotary phone.

"Hello?" Ranma answered immediately.

"**Ranma, we found her! She's in Boston!"** Kitty's voice informed him on the other end. Ranma briefly wondered where she got his number, as he had only given it to Professor Xavier and Logan- wait, Logan might think of giving out his number if he thought it might be fun.

"I'll be right there!" Ranma assured.

"**Wait!"** Kitty exclaimed before Ranma could press the disconnect button. **"She already left right after we found her, and left behind some police cruisers in trees as they came to get her."**

"Get her?"

"**She was breaking into some kind of museum,"** explained the sheepish Kitty. **"The only thing she took was a ring of some kind. The Professor thinks she might be under someone's influence because she's never shown criminal tendencies before."**

"So we're dealing with another telepath?" groaned Ranma. "Great. Okay, if there's any further development, you've go my number, I'll be out letting off some steam."

"**Okay, we'll talk about the Shadow Dance later, bye!"**

-bleep!-

Ranma flipped closed his cell phone after making sure he was disconnected, and stowed it away.

With the information of Jean being out of town, Ranma knew there was no point in continuing his search of Bayville.

Drawing only as many stares as any other man wearing a dark leather coat in a warm building on a hot late-spring day, Ranma strode out of the mall and into the parking lot.

His security features had been triggered, but unlike the last time, the perpetrator had been smart enough to realize they should leave the bike alone.

A simple press of his finger against the starter button deactivated the security, and started the engine with a roar as he jumped on.

Tearing off the parking lot at just a hair over the legal limit, Ranma started jogging his memory for where and when the next cage fighting matches would take place.

As luck would have it, the next fight was to take place in only a few hours, and he knew just where it was as well!

With marginally higher speed than allowed, Ranma drove through town a few times, and finally stopped at the old docks where several abandoned warehouses were located. In the founding days of Bayville, these warehouses had been bustling with activity, but as times moved on so did their owners, leaving them behind to fall apart, and since the places were so dilapidated that hobos didn't dare spend the night in them, and the police never bothered to stop by. In other words, it was the perfect place to hold illegal events.

Parking in a shed that looked about to fall over at any moment, Ranma marched down the street in search of any signs of activity.

Not more than a couple of warehouses down the line, Ranma found a couple of seedy-looking men standing guard in front of one of the few warehouses that had survived with some modicum of stability.

As there were no other signs of activity anywhere, this would have to be the place.

"I'm here to fight," Ranma announced as he came within a few meters of the men.

"Beat it, kid," the bearded one of the pair grunted.

"Paint your wagon," Ranma returned.

"What color?" the one in mirrored shades questioned.

"Blooded red and bruised purple," continued Ranma.

"And the gold dust?"

"Sifting through the saloon floor boards into my canvas bag," finished Ranma. "Now let me in. And for pity's sake, work out a better pass phrase; that one passed out of date thirty years ago along with the movie."

"Noted," the bearded man grunted and knocked three times on the closed metal door.

The door opened, and Ranma stepped inside, carefully taking stock of his surroundings to avoid any nasty surprises.

The interior bore remains of the pulleys and other lifting systems, and a cage had been hastily erected in the middle of the warehouse space, about as large as the average boxing ring.

"Ah, Mr _Horse_," a gruff man called out. This was the pit boss for the local underground fighting environment, who just went by the name _Boss_. If Ranma was to compare the man to someone in appearance, it would have to be Danny DeVito on a very bad day after a week without showers or facial maintenance. The man wore a dirty leisure suit and was constantly puffing on a cigar stump.

Horse was simply the name he gave them to avoid confusion with the simple address of 'hey, you'.

"Here to break the bank again?" Boss asked.

"Yup, I'm looking for a new place, and property doesn't come cheap," the black-haired youth explained.

Though he'd made no formal plans, Ranma had come to realize that he could no longer live at the Brotherhood Boarding House. Too many people knew of it, and he wasn't on the best of terms with the other residents since Nabiki came to visit. And as he was coming of age in addition to his emancipation, a place of his own seemed the best solution.

"Tell me 'bout it," agreed Boss.

"I'd like to wager my entire month salary on me winning the first round," declared Ranma, as expected. "And repeat the bet for each match with the winnings of the last tacked on ..."

"Hold it, kid," Boss interrupted. "I don't know what kind of crowd we'll get tonight. I couldn't possible back up such a sure thing unless I lower your odds."

"How low?"

"Five to three," Boss grunted after checking a list in his pocket. "That's the best I can give you. It could be six, but then you wouldn't get the prize money for fighting-"

"I don't need prize money, just let my bet ride the night and let's say two to one odds. I'll even try not to break your cages," Ranma offered. "Deal?"

"Deal," grinned Boss in satisfaction. "Gotta hand it to you Japs, you sure know how to sweeten the pot."

"Right," agreed Ranma hesitantly, and dig out a bundle of bills from his pocket. "Here you go; my month salary, and I'd like a receipt for this bet so you won't weasel out of it later."

"That's a lot of green for a teenager," Boss commented as he counted the thick wad of paper he'd been handed. "What do you do for a living? Prostitution? Pimping? Loan sharking?"

"Burglary," Ranma interrupted before the suggestions started getting too ridiculous. "All legal, of course."

"Sure," Boss agreed knowingly, though he probably believed the addition to Ranma's sentence was a load of bull.

Ranma accepted and inspected the receipt written out by the Boss, and moved to the empty cage, where he balled his coat up, and careful not to draw attention to himself stowed it away in stuff space with the receipt to keep them safe.

Sitting down on the ground inside the cage, Ranma waited patiently for the match to start, even as people started trickling in either to watch the violence or participate in it.

Even as people started crowding around his cage, Ranma pretended to meditate, while he was really keeping track of everyone around him, should anyone try to fix the fight by drugging or injuring him before it began. He wasn't about to make things easy for those he fought.

When after nearly an hour another man entered the cage, Ranma opened his eyes and rose in a single, fluid movement.

The man in question was what Ranma usually referred to as a pampered wannabe; much like Akane.

He may have attained black belts left and right, and dressed the part, but he had never put his fighting skills to the test against someone better than himself, or in a life-or-death situation. In other words; he was _theoretically_ skilled at Martial Arts, and followed very rigid limits of movement and tactics.

Standing on top of the cage was the Boss, holding a bull horn.

"From Brooklyn, New York, we have James 'killer' Cooper, Black Belt at Karate, Kung Fu and Aikido!" Boss called out to the crowds, pointing at Ranma's opponent.

The crowd gave a roar of approval and Cooper showed off by doing a couple of high kicks and raising his arms as though he had already been declared the winner.

"And from the Far East, we have the _Crouching Tiger_, Horse! Never defeated in single combat," Boss continued.

The crowd cheered once more, though not much more than they did for Cooper. Ranma scowled at Boss. He sincerely liked the movie the man referred to, but he resented being given that title simply because the warriors used weapons such as swords and spears, where he usually preferred to rely on his body.

"Ready?" Boss queried rhetorically. "Begin!"

The roars of satisfaction rose from the crowd gathered around the cage, and Cooper shifted into a ready stance, while Ranma remained in his relaxed position.

Both competitors waited for the other to attack, but after nearly half a minute, Cooper lost his patience.

With a battle-cry, Cooper rushed at Ranma with a three hit punch, kick combination, which Ranma deftly avoided.

As the kick reached its full extent, Ranma grabbed the leg and transferred the momentum downwards, sending the unfortunate man to the ground.

With hardly any effort, Ranma stepped on the base of the man's neck, immobilizing him with just enough pressure to make the foot noticed.

"Winner, Horse!" Boss announced loudly after a ten second count, which parts of the crowd had participated in. The rest had been yelling for Cooper to get back up, or cursing at Ranma for cheating somehow.

Cooper was released by Ranma, and was allowed to leave the cage, though if looks could kill, Ranma would have died several times over from the one Cooper sent him as he passed through the cage door.

The moment his next opponent came through the cage door, Ranma knew the man had to be on some form of narcotic. He wasn't blinking, he was unwashed, unshaven, and he had barbed wire wrapped tightly around his fists, cutting into his flesh without seeming to notice.

Ranma would have called for a different opponent, but as this was an illegal fighting ring, normal rules didn't apply, and requesting another opponent without winning was the same as giving up, which would not look good for Ranma's assets.

"The challenger, from Hell's Kitchen, New York, we have Will 'Mad Dog' Tucker," Boss continued. "Connoisseur of narcotics, and winner of five street fighting tournaments in the Big Apple! Begin!"

Unlike Cooper, Tucker didn't wait for Ranma to attack, but rather screamed unintelligibly and rushed at him, arms swinging wildly.

Ranma blocked each swing, and pinched a few of the man's nerves to see the extent of his anesthesia and found that Tucker was drugged to the gills, and would likely continue fighting if he was torn in half. And with the kinds of drugs he was undoubtedly taking, he would probably not feel a thing, which meant the mental blocks the mind usually placed on the body was removed and allowed the man greater strength, though at far greater risk to his health.

Grabbing Tucker's hands one after the other and stomping on the man's feet, Ranma smashed his forehead into the head of the drug-abuser, sending him back a few steps.

Though the man started to bleed, and a glaring bruise started forming already, he didn't seem very much affected.

With an incoherent gurgle, Tucker rushed at Ranma again.

Ranma stepped aside and added to Tucker's momentum, slamming him into the cage wall, where Ranma kept the man immobile no matter how much he thrashed and screamed.

Blood spattered as Tucker's thrashing caused the cage to bite into his skin, but Ranma remained in place, applying pressure with his elbow to Tucker's spine just between the shoulder blades.

"Might as well surrender now," Ranma announced over the angry growls of the pinned druggie. "I can keep this up all night or however long it takes for you to get down from your high to feel the effects of your injuries."

His only response was an unintelligent roar.

"Fine, then I'll bring you down early," whispered Ranma, and with a jab of his free index finger, dug into a nerve cluster that almost instantly flushed Tucker's system with adrenaline, killing his buzz over a mere few seconds.

The glazed look in Tucker's eyes cleared, and glazed over again in agony, and his angry screams turned into confused anguish.

"He won't be capable of continuing," Ranma called out, and without protests from Tucker, Boss engaged the count-down.

As the count reached its end, Ranma ejected Tucker from the cage so his associates could give him proper medical attention as they saw fit.

To Ranma's surprise, the next person to enter the cage was a young woman. Though that general description hardly did her any justice.

She was tall, blonde, built much like Kasumi but with an underlying muscle tone that the eldest Tendo daughter didn't seem to have. She wore a tight yellow one-piece bathing suit, dark denim short shorts, dark denim jacket, boots that went up to her knees, dark gloves and in order to hide her identity a dark mask tied across her face in a similar fashion to the infamous Zorro, with a cosmetic ring of the same color painted where the eye holes would have exposed skin.

"The next challenger, also from New York, we have a first-time contender," Boss announced, and read a note. "Skids? Seriously? What kind of fighting name is that? Oh well ... begin!"

Though the woman, Skids, was graceful as she rushed at Ranma immediately following the closing of the cage, Ranma found her attempts at striking him laughable.

In order to show her where the most glaring holes in her defense were located, Ranma attempted to poke her, only to find his fingers being deflected by a very thin, almost frictionless surface; a barrier of some sort extending just barely from Skids body, invisible in its current state.

A deeper examination of the woman followed this discovery revealed something unexpected; she was a mutant.

Ranma was so preoccupied with his examination and surprise that he failed to detect the woman's fist heading for his face.

A normal man would most definitely have felt the strong punch of a young woman and her full weight of ninety pounds, they might even have broken their jaw or nose.

Ranma didn't flinch as the woman's fist impacted her barrier against his cheek.

In fact, his head didn't recoil from the strike, and the woman was surprised for long enough for Ranma to recover his wits and react.

Because normal forms of attacks would not work, should the barrier extend all around her, Ranma decided that some exotic measures were in order. He wouldn't win this fight if the woman couldn't be touched.

Almost instinctively, Ranma applied some ki to his palms, and twisted Skids arm behind her back, surprising her with not sliding off.

"Surrender," Ranma demanded.

"How?" Skids grunted, not referring to the process of giving up.

"Explanations later, surrender now," Ranma elaborated.

"No!" Skids gasped through grit teeth.

Ranma put a little more force on the arm, lifting it half an inch higher and sending strong signals of pain through the arm, threatening to dislocate the shoulder.

"OKAY!" gasped Skids. "I give up!"

The crowds outside the cage were most displeased with the uneventful fight that looked more rigged than anything, and they weren't shy about expressing it.

"Meet me outside the warehouse once I'm done here," whispered Ranma to Skids as he released her. "We need to talk."

While decidedly not looking pleased at being ordered around, Skids looked too confused and curious to disobey.

* * *

An hour later, Ranma strolled out of the warehouse with a briefcase filled to capacity with hundred dollar bills and thousand dollar bills; his collected winnings, and it was hard work getting Boss to pay up the exact amount. The end of it was that Ranma was forbidden from wagering more than ten dollars on himself in the future if he intended on letting it ride through the event. Even despite the lowered odds, Ranma made out like a bandit, and was pleased with the total being enough for a modest home in a nice neighborhood. He would just have to see about getting more out of his money when he went out looking for a place.

Standing outside was Skids, still wearing her costume and mask, tapping her right foot impatiently.

"You took your sweet time," she commented.

"Had to earn some money," Ranma shrugged, and with his free hand indicated that she follow him.

After making sure they hadn't been followed, Ranma rolled out his bike and whipped on his coat, making the briefcase disappear in the flutter of movements as though by magic, but making it so the portable container was forgotten.

"Hop on," added Ranma as he swung his leg over the bike and handed Skids his helmet.

Reluctantly, the woman did so, and forced the helmet on before Ranma could start.

Keeping to the speed limit, Ranma drove the bike away from the old warehouse district and through town to a scenic spot overlooking Bayville and most commonly used as a make-out spot for amorous teens, which would leave them relatively undisturbed.

After nearly three minutes of waiting, Skids had enough.

"What are you," she asked.

"Not a mutant, if that's what you mean," replied Ranma airily.

"Then how did you do that?" Skids demanded. "My power doesn't let anything hit me! The stronger an incoming kinetic attack is, the less likely it is to hit me! I can even use it to skate around like I'm ice-skating ... that's why I made up the name Skids ..."

"I'm a Martial Artist," Ranma answered. "Trained since I could walk in very strenuous conditions to the point where I can do virtually anything I can imagine. What I did to you was applying an adhesive layer of bio energy to my hand that was stronger than your shield."

"Really?" Skids questioned sceptically.

"Sure," confirmed Ranma. "I can walk up any surface, change my appearance to any living thing, leap hundreds of meters in a single bound, sense everything around me for twenty meters in great detail, lift weights close to twenty tons over my head, run faster than an F1 race car, punch as fast or faster than an automatic machine gun, hide a mass of the same proportions as an SUV's interior in a pocket of sub space. And that's just using Martial Arts."

"You can perform dimensional compression without the gift of mutation?" Skids exclaimed. "Show me!"

Shrugging, Ranma reached inside his coat, and pulled out his briefcase. "This was hiding in an inner pocket."

"What else?" Skids demanded eagerly.

"Well, I'm not inclined to reveal _all_ my secrets," Ranma stated and returned the briefcase to his stuff-space pocket. "But I guess one or two more couldn't hurt ..."

-BRRRRING!-

"Excuse me," said Ranma and pulled out his phone. "Yes?"

"**Ranma,"** Professor Xavier's voice rung out from the other end. **"Jean returned sometime during the night. She took Kurt."**

"Do you know where they went?" a now stone-faced Ranma asked. Multiple kidnappings of people he associated with was not something he was willing to accept, regardless of whether or not he was their friend.

"**Cerebro was able to track them to New York City,"** the professor explained.

"I'll be there momentarily, don't leave without me!" declared Ranma and pressed the disconnect button. Remembering that he had a passenger still sitting o his bike, he winced. This was not what was needed right now when he should tell the woman off for so blatantly using her powers and risking the exposure of mutants everywhere. "Sorry, emergency. Should I drive you somewhere?"

"You can drop me off at the train station," Skids replied.

"Right," Ranma agreed, and after making sure his helmet was firmly fastened on Skid's head revved the engine and drove off in a very borderline reckless manner, just barely crossing the legal limits for speed and conduct. Within minutes, he pulled to a stop at the station, and Skids jumped off.

"This was fun," the woman admitted. "Let's do this again sometime, only without the audience to limit us in action."

"Sure," agreed Ranma. It had indeed been fun, and having a sparring match or two would only improve their skills.

Two steps after Skids started walking away, she suddenly turned and called out to Ranma. "Hey, I still don't know your real name!"

"It's Ranma," replied Ranma, though he refrained from revealing more.

"Sally," returned Skids, and tossed Ranma his helmet, having almost forgotten she was holding on to it.

Waving goodbye to his new acquaintance, Ranma proceeded in rushing through town to Xavier's Mansion.

Though it was still night, most of the mansion had roused with the news that Jean had returned and taken Kurt away with her.

Ranma parked his bike and made his way to the underground hangar where he found Logan, Xavier and Scott.

"Don't tell me Red-Eye's coming with us," Ranma sighed after he greeted the group. "He'll mess up the mission."

"I'll have you know that this is the sort of mission we've been trained to handle," Scott returned. "If anything, this is the sort of mission where you'd be a liability. Jean and Kurt are friends, so you can't just beat the snot out of them or kill them like you seem so fond of doing in simulations."

"I've been trained as a Martial Artist," countered Ranma evenly. "And I've been in plenty of situations where I need to save my friends even from themselves, and none of them are dead."

"Cut the pissin' match, boys, we just had the floor cleaned," Logan grunted and started for the X-Jet. "Saotome, you take the stick, Cyclops, buckle up. We're all going and you're gonna like it."

"Why does he get to fly?" Scott demanded as he hurried after the feral mutant up the ramp of the aircraft. "He's not even part of the team!"

"Because unlike you, Ranma has a license for this thing," Logan reasoned and sat down in the co-pilot seat, followed by Ranma sitting in the main seat. "It'd be a shame not to use it after all the trouble he went through getting the experience and knowledge required."

Feeling his point made without ever having to open his mouth, Ranma smirked smugly as he fired up the engines, causing Scott to scramble into his own seat and get his seat belt fastened before take-off.

With a burst of acceleration, the jet sped down the tunnel that acted as the runway, and out the barely open blast doors hidden behind a waterfall, which had through special means been diverted as the jet launched.

"Cool it, kid," Logan added as soon as they were outside. "There's one among us who won't be able to walk away from an accident, so keep the hot-doggin' to a minimum."

"Yeah, yeah," Ranma agreed dismissively. "So, where to?"

"Follow the HUD, and you'll find out," Logan instructed.

* * *

Landing a full-sized jet on top of a bank was a somewhat new experience to Ranma, and the fact that he was pretty sure they were being watched by curious neighbours who were calling the authorities made the deadline for retrieving Jean and Kurt that much shorter.

"Where's the grappling gear?" Ranma asked as he looked down the side of the building, estimating there was about twenty meters down, something he was reasonably sure neither of his cohorts could drop down unharmed.

"We don't keep grappling gear on the jet," Scott answered. "We usually land on the ground, or have Jean lower us."

"Well, we can't take off and land again, it'd take too long," Ranma stated. "And the police are no doubt under way to investigate this breach in airspace protocols and illegal landing. And I'll bet ten bucks that the roof access door is wired to the security system."

"How 'bout you use your telekinetic powers, boy?" Logan grunted.

"I don't have them," insisted Ranma. "True, I might be able to repel or attract objects with a thought and gesture, but that's too crude to be compared to Jean's talents."

"Then I suggest you train them a bit more when we're done," said Logan. "Can you catch us if we jump off the roof?"

"As long as I'm given a head start, yeah."

"Then start hittin' pavement, because I'm goin' over any moment now," the gruff man announced.

With this warning, Ranma jumped off the roof of the bank in a single fluid motion, and barely made a sound as he touched the ground. Five seconds later, Ranma caught Logan and deposited him on the ground.

"Come on, Cyclops, yer slowin' down the mission!" Logan called up to the roof where Scott was hesitant in trusting his life to Ranma. "Don't make me come back up there!"

As an added threat, Logan raised his fists and let his claws eject menacingly.

The threat had its intended effect, and within moments, Ranma deposited Scott to the ground.

"They're inside," Logan indicated and started for the bank entrance.

"Hold it," Ranma warned and held Scott back when it became obvious that he had planned on simply storming inside, optic beams a-blazing. "Are you a complete moron? Do you want to look like a criminal? Because that's how we'll look if one of those security cameras manage to capture our images for even a single frame."

"But Jean's in there!" the teen argued.

"Do you hear any alarms?" questioned Ranma. "Using their combined powers, Kurt and Jean have somehow managed to avoid being seen. Do you want to compromise them by running in and shooting down every camera you see?"

"I don't see you coming up with any ideas," Scott countered.

"As a matter of fact, I have one – but it requires the pair of you to stay out here as lookouts."

"You can't-"

"Let him do this, Cyclops," interjected Logan. "He does this for a living."

Nodding in gratitude at the older man, Ranma made himself vanish from sight, greatly surprising Scott, who had either not gotten the information about his skills shown in the simulations he went through or forgotten it.

Finding an unsecured opening wasn't all that hard, once Ranma sensed out where the energy for security ran, indicating where sensors lay. And getting from one end of the building to the other was child's play with his ability to crawl along the ceiling and walls to void stepping through lasers or into camera range.

From what Ranma could tell, both Jean and Kurt were inside the heavily fortified vault, which was locked.

Dropping to the ground in front of the vault, Ranma extended his senses into the door, and started turning the dial until the first tumbler locked into place. There were several false tumblers installed to make cracking the bank vault that much more difficult, and had Ranma used a stethoscope instead of his senses which formed a complete picture of his surroundings, he might have been fooled by these tricks.

A second and third click of tumblers locking into place soon followed, and the door was opened.

Inside, Jean and Kurt looked up from the sole bank box they were breaking into, and the redhead, who was wearing her mission uniform, raised her arm in his direction.

Belatedly, Ranma realized that even if they couldn't see him, there was only a small area of space he could occupy while he opened the door, and the kinetic blast that struck him was a stinging reminder of that even as he was catapulted through the bank, smashed through the front doors and crash into the car park on the other side of the road.

The journey had taken less than two seconds, but stretched almost two hundred meters with a rise in elevation of twenty degrees, meaning that when Ranma slammed into the car park, he did so sixty-one meters above ground, leaving quite an indentation in the wall near the eighth floor and scattering concrete, glass and wood all over the street below.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the entrance of the bank was mainly glass and stretched almost three floors in height or Ranma might have gone through the offices above the bank's main hall, rather than through a support column or two and the glass front.

What was fortunate, though, was that not until Ranma hit the car park did his invisibility fall away.

It came as no surprise to the woozy Ranma when the bank's burglary alarm went off a second later, just as gravity got hold of him.

-wham-

"Your approach is better than mine?" asked a smug Scott. "How, exactly?"

"Shut up," groaned Ranma and slowly rose to his feet, cradling his left arm. "Damn, think I cracked a rib ..."

"I thought you were supposed to be some kind of Martial Arts GOD," Scott snorted.

"I was taken by surprise," Ranma replied, and popped a few joints. "Even the best can be surprised. At least I can survive a trip like that. How about you give it a go, red-eye?"

"There's no need to try," Logan cut in, looking up at the roof of the bank.

"Why's that?" Scott asked.

"Cause they're takin' off in our jet."

Both teens looked up to the roof, where indeed the X-Jet was lifting off from the building, and only seconds later was zooming away.

"Charles ain't gonna like this ..." concluded Logan.

* * *

It was close to half an hour later that the second, less flashy X-Jet landed on top of another car park some blocks away, where Ranma, Scott and Logan had retreated once the police sirens started getting closer.

The hatch opened to show Professor Xavier, and he was wearing a very serious expression that could not mean good news.

"Kitty and Spyke were abducted a short while ago," the man announced. "I suspect Jean and Kurt to have a hand in it. Cerebro tracked the jet to Washington DC; the Museum of Eastern Antiquities was robbed shortly after they arrived. A tip from Rogue has revealed our most likely culprit behind the brainwashing as the Hypnotist Mesmero, who recently visited Bayville with the traveling carnival."

"I knew there was something wrong with that guy," muttered Ranma to himself as he strapped himself into his seat.

The cracked rib had mostly healed by that time, the only remainder being a slight sting in the tender muscles surrounding the former fracture.

"Well, at least we know where they'll go next, which gives us the advantage," Professor Xavier added as Logan took the stick.

* * *

Ranma did not like this.

They were waiting for Jean, Kurt, Kitty and Spyke to come to the currently abandoned Carnival lot, devoid of life but not tents, and it was a truly creepy place when it wasn't teeming with life. Adding to that, it was starting to rain, so the dark clouds and occasional gusts of wind did nothing to help.

What remained of the X-Men and himself were spread all over the grounds to be prepared for the confrontation, and soon the sound of a jet engine revealed that the time was upon them.

When the group of brainwashed mutants had exited the aircraft, Ranma got the signal to proceed, and stepped out of the shadows in plain sight of the four.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he declared.

With an upwards swipe of his hands, the four were propelled towards him, and another instantly slammed them into the ground with their forward momentum still holding sway.

Kitty disappeared into the ground, Kurt vanished in a puff of smoke, and Jean cushioned her plummet with her own powers. Spyke was not as lucky, and skid along the asphalt. Thankfully his mutation had hardened his body enough that he wouldn't be seriously injured, but he wouldn't get up for a short while.

Ranma felt a pair of hands on his feet and was suddenly pulled to his neck into the ground, making him curse his straying attention which had been focused on those mutants visible to him when he knew the threat Shadowcat posed.

The girl faded up from the ground, and not far behind a metal street sign tore itself from its place and started spinning like a propeller as it started nearing his exposed neck.

The brainwashed mutants were clearly considering him the greater threat among the others, and had decided on eliminating him – Ranma was not beaten yet, though.

Glaring at the spinning metal, Ranma let loose a blast of energy from his eyes, smelting it to slag.

With a deep breath, Ranma started shrinking, and shrinking, and shrinking until he disappeared into the hole made from him.

Out of the hole crawled a gecko that jumped onto the heel of Shadowcat, who instinctively turned herself insubstantial upon feeling something touching her.

The gecko shifted back into Ranma, who coated his arm in ki, and placed a few mild, yet conscious-jarring strikes. Kitty fell to the ground after only two, and lost consciousness on the third.

Nightcrawler suddenly appeared behind Ranma, and he felt himself moved.

When the smoke dispelled around him, Ranma found himself almost a kilometer above the carnival grounds.

Nightcrawler disappeared, and Ranma started falling.

Cursing at himself for his repeated lack of alertness, Ranma squinted against the air whipping at his eyes, and spread his limbs for better control in his descent.

He might have cracked a rib during his last impromptu flight, but that was because he hadn't had the time to prepare for impact. This time he had a full twenty seconds.

About twenty meters from the ground Ranma rolled in the air, and landed on his feet into a crouch. Though the impact had no effect on him, thanks to reinforcing his body, the ground beneath him was not as lucky.

From the point of contact, the ground rippled like it was a drop of water stirring a calm surface, and knocked over all standing mutants within a hundred meters. Then, the ground ripped open, sending chunks into the air, showering the tents and people and Ranma crouched in a fifty centimeter deep crater.

Rising from the crouch, Ranma looked menacingly at the brainwashed mutants. Whoever controlled them was more than willing to stain his hands in blood. But being friends, of sorts, Ranma could not permanently harm them which made fighting them all the more difficult.

With his senses more alert, Ranma felt the telltale marker of energy that Nightcrawler sent to his desired destination, which again was directly behind him.

"Not this time," growled Ranma, and spun down into a crouch with his leg extended, turning it into a sweep.

On his second spin in quick succession, the smoke and burst of displacement appeared with the blue mutant.

His legs were caught in the sweep, and his balance was lost.

Ranma felt the marker shoot out, somewhere out of his reach.

He wasn't going to allow himself or others be ambushed again.

While Nightcrawler was still gathering energy for the escape, Ranma slammed a claw hand into his stomach, dispersing the attempt at focus, and adding force to Nightcrawler's fall.

This sequence of events took less than three seconds, and Nightcrawler struck his head upon landing, rendering him unconscious and possibly concussed.

Jean posed the biggest problem, as no one could get near her.

Already Scott lay unconscious on the ground from a psychic attack, and Logan was being kept at bay with telekinesis.

Seeing Rogue sneaking up on the redhead with a glove removed, Ranma decided to add to the girl's distraction.

Kicking up gravel and bits of asphalt, Ranma used these things to pelt Jean.

Using telekinesis to defend herself from the projectiles, she did not see Rogue until her hand came into view of her face, where it made contact.

Ranma saw the life energy of Jean slowly sap away into Rogue, and made a note to figure out something to help her control with her ability before she went insane from lack of physical contact, or accidentally touched someone too long and killed them. A variation of the Moxibustion point might do the trick, but he'd rather not experiment with that in the middle of a battlefield.

The sneak attack had been successful, but Rogue was overwhelmed with memories and power. She fell to her knees from psychic pain.

The pouch attached to Jean's hip levitated into the air, and was snagged by a hand from inside the tent Rogue and Jean had been outside of.

Professor Xavier lay on the ground not far from the man, knocked over in Ranma's landing, and recognized the figure from his search.

"Mesmero," said Xavier in recognition.

Mesmero wasn't very talkative, and instead attempted to get away, only to be stopped by a battle of the mind with Professor Xavier.

Because of the very nature of the battle being waged, Ranma didn't dare intervene, fearing he would do more damage than good.

Rogue was too busy fussing over her fallen comrades to use her telepathic powers to join forces with the Professor.

Suddenly, Xavier gasped and slumped over. Ranma was the closest one able to lend aid, and rushed to the man, forgetting the opposition because Logan was running at the tent, claws drawn.

Slashing was heard not a second after the feral man was inside and then there was silence for a short while.

"He's not here!" Logan called and slashed open the flaps. Sniffing the air, the clawed man growled in frustration. "His scent's been masked by bleach!"

"I fear this extends far beyond Mesmero," said Professor Xavier gravely. "From what I could gather from his twisted mind, Mesmero was merely a pawn for a greater evil. But who it is, I don't know."

* * *

Author's Notes: This chapter was almost entirely written on my brand new MSI EX700 laptop computer, just felt like bragging a little. Never had a fully functional computer to call my own before.

Additional news of my life, I was given orders by my doctor that I am not to work or do strenuous activity or wear sneakers for a while; ingrown toenail wound that grew infected, I'll spare you more gruesome, bloody and painful details.

Skids is a real Marvel mutant, Sally Blevins, if memory serves, and apart from the friction-less barrier she can project around herself, she has no special skills. She isn't included in canon XME, but then there were a lot of almost essential mutants or characters that never made an appearance there. I altered her costume a bit, and added a blue Zorro-like mask purely to hide her identity in fighting circles. And before you ask, no, she is not the one I intend on ultimately pairing Ranma with.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	19. Book 2 Chapter 16 Dance Gone Awry

Posted: Wednesday 26 November 2008

Re-posted: Thursday 27 November 2008

Re-posted: unday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Sixteen – Dance Gone Awry

* * *

"Looks like you lost your chance, girl."

Ranma barely bothered acknowledging what Risty commented to Rogue about. Most conversations around him lately had been about the Shadow Dance in some way or another, so instead of wasting time on catching up, he continued eating his lunch.

His thoughts revolved around property and building permits.

The day before, he had bought himself a bit of property on the edge of town, not far from the exit leading towards the Xavier Mansion. It was a rocky hill where few things could grow, and steep enough to make it inconvenient to scale, as well as tall enough to have a view of town.

Because it had no use, Ranma got it cheap, including the base of the thing.

Now, he would require a building permit to erect a construction on top, and he was not looking forward to the process.

Looking up for a moment, Ranma saw Scott being seduced by the same girl who had cornered the boy into going to the school carnival a few months ago.

It was somewhat satisfying to know that the bespectacled boy had started taking his training suggestions to heart after the brainwashing incident, when Ranma had displayed similar talents. From what Ranma could tell, the boy was gaining a little more control every day, though the most he had been able to hold back the stream of energy was three seconds after almost a week of training. It would be a long while before he could control it consciously and not worry about it leaking out without him wanting it to.

Ranma had also found out that the reason Kitty was so obsessed about taking him to the dance was because she and Lance had been having an argument at the time she asked, which eliminated the terra-kinetic mutant as the method of discouraging the stalker.

Activity at the X-Men's table drew Ranma's thoughts back to the experiments Forge was running with Kurt. The techno mutant had really gotten a firm idea of what happened when Kurt teleported, and had developed a way to slow down the jump so they could take a look at the world Kurt passed through every time he teleported. The first test was supposed to take place that evening just before the Shadow Dance.

"Ranma," Ranma looked up from his lunch tray. One of Jean's cheerleader friends was standing expectantly in front of him.

Next to him, Rogue and Risty stopped their gossiping about whom was taking who to the dance to watch this event unfold.

"I was thinking, you're single, attractive and on rocky ground with the guys concerning your sexuality. I just broke up with someone from the football team, and have no one to take me to the Shadow Dance. Wanna hook up?"

"Sorry," declined Ranma as gently as he could. Not necessarily because he wanted to spare the girl's feelings, he just didn't want to come out of this looking like a complete and utter jerk. "I've already agreed to go with Kitty Pryde."

"So you're into younger girls," concluded the offended cheerleader.

"That is none of your business," returned Ranma as politely as he could. "I'm sorry if you're insulted at my answer, but I'm not backing down on my word."

The girl huffed and stormed off in humiliation.

"Why is it that people seem to think that because I'm Japanese, I'll jump any American bimbo who bats her eyes at me?" asked Ranma of Risty and Rogue.

"I blame movies," answered Risty. "They seem to get their views on foreigners through the parodies shown in them. Like that comedy movie about a Japanese submarine attack on Los Angeles or somewhere near it. It has this Japanese man enthusiastically screaming out 'Hollywood' at the sight of a skinny-dipping woman who got caught on their periscope ..."

"I failed to see much humor in that movie," Ranma scoffed. "Except for that guy who tried to flush his boot to distract the crew of the sub, that was mildly amusing."

"That was quite the scene," remarked Kitty lightly as she virtually bounced up to the table and took a seat. "I was sure you'd say yes before your brain caught up with your head."

"Contrary to popular belief, teenage boys do not think about sex at all hours of the day, only most of it," Ranma stated. "And with the way my fiancees back home used to throw themselves at me, I've built up a lot of resistance to physical attraction and have become able to think with a mostly clear head through sexual arousal."

"So you should be able to hold a lucid conversation during hot sex?" asked Risty suggestively, tracing a finger up and down his arm to tease him. "Sounds like every woman's dream. Well, the dream would probably more be to find a man who could bring them repeatedly to completion and didn't fall asleep as soon as his task was done ..."

"I don't think anyone present at this table would have experience enough to agree or disagree with that," countered Rogue.

"Right," agreed Risty, though Ranma could have sworn she wasn't being entirely forthright.

"So, Ranma, what are you doing after school today?" asked Kitty and slipped a note into his shirt pocket.

Ranma sighed heavily.

This had been going on for a few days now, following the incident of the brainwashing and rescue.

Kitty had found out about his ability to transform into any living creature he could imagine and figure out the basic anatomy of, and it had been a source of great entertainment to her making him transform into various creatures on command.

She seemed to have a penchant for prehistoric reptiles or fantasy creatures, and in order to bridge the gap in Ranma's imagination, had given him a lot of information about animals and insects to allow him to draw parallels with the anatomy of real creatures and imaginary ones.

Ranma could only deduce that more information or suggested creatures was written on the note.

"Love notes, Ranma?" questioned Risty playfully and batted her eyes in an exaggerated manner. "I never knew you could be so romantic."

"Stuff it," retorted Ranma. "It's not a love note, but more a design project Kitty has her mind set on after discovering one of my very exotic martial arts techniques. I'll explain the technique later. Too many people around who could take it the wrong way."

"If you say so," agreed Risty.

* * *

After school had let out, Ranma opened the note, and as predicted, there was a suggestion for the dragon form Kitty wanted him to get right. Why the girl was so obsessed with pet-sized dragons was still a mystery to Ranma, but he had time to spare as he surveyed his property, taking measurements.

With his bike parked at the foot of the surprisingly steep slope, Ranma scaled the tall hill he had bought.

The hill was mostly solid rock several hundred meters below the ground, only covered by a thin layer of dirt and grass. From his examinations, Ranma was surprised there was enough ground for the trees on the edge of his property to cling to, but the trees were resilient enough, which said that their roots had spread along the surface of the rock and gone outwards when digging deeper was not an option. One good storm and they'd fall over.

After an hour of taking measurements, Ranma discovered that if he removed the top ten meters of his property, he would have a surface just bigger than the Tendo property on which to erect a house and a small training ground with a utility shed and a wall surrounding it all.

Taking a look down at the dot that was his bike, Ranma got a wicked idea.

Why not make the scaling of this tiny mountain more difficult than it already was?

With some extra concrete and the rock from the top, he should be able to construct a stone staircase that spiraled up or down the property several times. A quick calculation made him certain he could squeeze in as many as a thousand steps if not more, should he angle the thing right to end up at the planned plateau outside the gate he was going to build.

But, before he could start building or demolishing, he would need to get plans approved by the city planning commission and probably a slew of others. He would need to get the plans down on paper in order to get them approved. With a smirk, Ranma started working out the details in his head while reaching into his stuff space for some sheets of paper and his calligraphy kit.

Normally, something as complex as blueprints would take weeks to finish, the architect would need to not only know the geography of the construction, but also account for every nut, nail and bolt required.

For someone like Ranma, who had obtained a mastery of his movements, and knew exactly what he wanted, coupled with an insane speed, managed to make a finished plan in what appeared to the naked eye as only three strokes of the brush.

One more reason for the increased speed was that Ranma didn't need to take into account such things as electricity and wiring of it, as he would not need a single volt of power from the city to run through his property. He could do very well without. He did need to take plumbing into account even if he didn't really need to. Any modern planning commission would deny any plans for a permanent residence without some sort of toilet installed. They might not care about the lack of electricity, but sanitation was a must for a permanent residence.

Satisfied with his work, Ranma rolled up the plans and stuffed them into his pocket.

There was still some time left in the day, though most office workers would have gone home by this time, but it might be worth checking when they would be in so he could stop by in the morning to drop off his plans for approval.

As luck would have it; Ranma's luck that is, he got there just in time to see the last employee leave for the day.

The employee in question was a large, black woman in her early forties, and she wasn't aware of her own size or age, judging by the fact that her top and skirt were a size or three too small, not to mention shocking pink in color.

The woman apparently noticed the young man on his bike, looking like he had intended on doing some sort of business at the office.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" the woman asked as she fished out her keys from her purse. Ranma could see a few cans of mace in the tight thing within easy reach should something happen.

"Just wanted to drop off some plans for my new home," shrugged Ranma. "No hurry, though, I can come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense, child," the woman laughed, her eyes suddenly gleaming with a disturbingly familiar look. "I don't mind doing a little overtime. Come on inside, and I'll help you get this done. Frankly, things tend to go at a snail's crawl around here, so your plans might not even see the light of day for months yet."

"That's very kind of you," thanked Ranma.

"Think nothing of it," the woman shrugged and held the door open for Ranma. As he passed, she patted his behind in an attempt at innocently hurrying him along. "Glad to be of help, Mr.-"

"Saotome," finished Ranma. "I came by a few days ago to register a newly bought property to my name."

"That must have been one of my sick days," apologized the woman. "I have another doctor's appointment tomorrow; feminine problems, I'm sure you understand."

"More than you know," breathed Ranma under his breath as he was guided into a cubicle guest seat.

"Now, do you have the plans ready?" asked the woman as she sat down in her chair with an ominous creak.

"Sure," agreed Ranma and fished the papers out of his pocket. Along with it came the note Kitty had written him earlier. He quickly slipped the paper back in his pocket, and smoothed out the plans so the woman could see them.

"This certainly looks interesting," hummed the woman, discreetly brushing her foot against his. "Which architectural firm did you hire for this plan? I don't think I've seen this arrangement before? It looks modeled after old Buddhist temples ..."

"Did it myself," admitted Ranma, trying to keep from being visually repulsed at the attempts at flirtation from someone old enough to be his mother.

"Really?" gasped the woman in an exaggerated manner, bringing her hand to her straining top. "It looks very good, though you seem to have left out the electricity. A young man like yourself must have dozens of electrical trinkets that need to be powered, am I right?"

"Actually, I've lived most of my life on the road, training to be a Martial Artist, I'm used to roughing it, and decided that electricity is just a luxury I can go without," corrected Ranma. "I'm not a big fan of excessive spending, and monthly bills for electricity seem unnecessary. Of course, if it's required, I could always have a couple of solar panels for lighting ... and I was thinking of having fire-places placed at necessary places."

"Fascinating," breathed the woman. With one hand, the woman rooted through a filing cabinet next to her desk, one of several, and pulled out a map of some sorts, then compared lot designations to find Ranma's property on it. "Well, everything seems to be in order. Though you might consider rotating the plumbing to the east where the nearest sewage main is located."

"I'll do that," agreed Ranma.

"Well, here you go," finished the woman after a few moments of scribbling on a few official-looking documents. "This is your building permit, this is your digging permit, plumbing. Just show this and your plans to a contractor and then the building inspector, and everything should be taken care of as soon as your check clears for the permit fees."

"That was fast," admitted Ranma. "I thought I'd be given the royal run-around for a few weeks at the least."

"Oh, I'm the department head, so everything has to pass by me at some point or another," dismissed the woman. "Just keep me in mind come Easter, I like chocolates and the color pink."

"I would never have known," returned Ranma, doing his utmost to keep the sarcasm from reaching his voice, and he was successful. After all, some chocolate for Easter was a pretty good deal for expediting his paper work. Mentally gagging on his words, Ranma took the exchange a notch higher. "With a trim figure like that, I would almost swear you're on a diet."

"Oh, you," giggled the woman girlishly.

* * *

Ranma was very happy to be out of the clutches of the chunky bureaucrat as he came to a stop in front of the Xavier Institute entrance.

The woman had somehow managed to convince Ranma into joining her for a meal; which consisted of three Big Mac menus for her and a Quarter-Pounder for Ranma. To keep up the pretense, Ranma had been forced to chide the woman on eating so much, stating that it was a miracle it hadn't already gone to her thighs just from looking at it.

A shiver went down Ranma's spine as he thought of the outright flirting the woman had done with someone young enough to be her own son.

Still, he had a valid building permit, and despite the feeling of having prostituted himself for it, Ranma was relieved that he could now begin construction of his first home.

But he still had some engagements to handle before then; such as the Shadow Dance.

Any plans to construct would have to wait until the biggest social event of the semester was over.

However, due to the experiment taking place in the Danger Room he would not be able to occupy his time in there with simulations. Wait, wasn't Amara supposed to be training her powers in the caverns? That would be an excellent chance to study her powers some more.

True to his recollection, Amara, or Magma as she was codenamed, was practicing her powers in one of the caverns under the school.

Her active mutant power form made her look like her namesake, a statuesque human made entirely of molten rock. Not bad on the eyes, either, but then after having spent a deceptively short time in the clutches of an overweight woman with delusions of thinness and youth anyone actually living up to those delusions would be attractive.

To keep her from losing her focus, Ranma refrained from announcing his presence and simply stood just inside the cavern, observing the girl as she used her powers while analyzing the flow of energy and theorizing just how he could achieve a similar effect.

If he could compare Magma, Storm, Sunspot and Iceman, perhaps he could manage to compose a combat form for himself made out of an element of his choosing. Perhaps if there was someone made out of metal or a mineral out there, he could study them as well.

* * *

Elsewhere, yet separately, Adrian Corbo, Paige Guthrie, Emma Frost and Piotr Rasputin sneezed and spontaneously changed into their respective mineral forms. Or as was the case with Paige Guthrie, shed her skin to reveal the mineral underneath.

* * *

Time passed as Ranma watched and pondered, and out of the blue his cell phone rang, startling both Ranma and Amara.

Amara actually fell out of her fire form in shock both at the unexpected sound and the unknown presence.

"Hello, Kitty," answered Ranma. "Be up in one minute."

The teenage mutant still on the ground stared silently at Ranma as he hung up.

"Sorry, gotta go," Ranma apologized and started off.

"Wait!" called Amara. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you started juggling fire balls," shrugged Ranma and carried on with his plans to meet Kitty in the Entrance Hall.

On his way, Ranma changed his normal clothes into a fancier version, covered by his leather coat.

His white shirt suddenly had a white Asian dragon stitched on, starting on his right-side chest, over his shoulder and ending at his stomach's left side. The stitching made it almost impossible to see the dragon unless light hit it in a certain way, in which case it lit up and was almost impossible to miss.

Some of the scales on the dragon even appeared to take on different colors if the light struck them right.

As promised, Ranma appeared in the Entrance Hall within a minute, but Kitty was not there yet. Most likely because she didn't take expressions literally.

While he waited, Ranma went over his plans for his new house in his head and ran a hand through his hair to somewhat tidy it. Not that it would matter when he got back on his bike as his helmet would either muss it up or flatten it again.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," announced Kitty as she descended the stairs.

While there was no big difference in her appearance, apart from slightly heavier make-up, and a short, pink, strapless dress which for a moment made Ranma wonder how she'd manage sitting on his bike without flashing passersby.

Kitty twirled an extra time for Ranma, as he seemed caught up in her appearance. "Was it worth the wait?" she asked coyly.

Recognizing a trap question when he heard it, Ranma nodded silently.

"Thanks again for taking me," the perky California girl added as she came closer.

"No problem," dismissed Ranma. "If you hadn't asked me, I would have needed to come up with some other excuse to not take those airheads who've been asking me lately. They seem to think the best way to get over Jean is for them to get under me ..."

"Still not over her, huh?" asked Kitty, rubbing Ranma's left shoulder in sympathy.

"I'm over her," assured Ranma. "Still hurts a little, but I'm good ..."

"That's good to hear," cheered Kitty.

"I guess," agreed Ranma. "Now, how about we get going. Wouldn't want to be unfashionably late for the dance, would we?"

As his statement sank in, Kitty realized that they would be late if they didn't leave at that moment, and half started to panic as Ranma guided her outside to his bike.

Producing a pair of helmets, Ranma gently forced one over the head of his date, and then for appearance more than practicality put the second one on himself. To keep her warm, or at least comfortable, Ranma removed his coat and had Kitty put it on. That dress could not be very comfortable at high speeds or low temperatures.

Kitty solved Ranma's worry about her seating arrangement by sitting down sideways, which caused a different problem, namely that of the pert, young b-cup breasts being pressed against his back as she had to hold on to him around his chest.

"You might want to scoot back a little," advised Ranma. "Unless you want your heels to scrape the ground."

"Done," called Kitty, tightening her hold to compensate for the lack of personal balance as her behind now protruded off the other side.

"Okay, hang on, because this might be a bumpy ride," warned Ranma and revved his bike.

With a squeal of acceleration, the two shot down the driveway and out the gates in less than ten seconds.

For the first kilometer, or twenty-five seconds depending on your point of view, Kitty screamed in fear of a terminal accident. But then as she realized the degree of control Ranma had over his vehicle, her screams turned into ones of excitement which barely reached Ranma's ears despite the proximity of their heads.

A distance that would normally have taken fifteen minutes to drive was covered in less than half, including city driving and weaving between other vehicles. At one point Ranma even managed to make the bike jump over a car which had the right of way in an intersection, with a perfect landing on the other side.

When the couple arrived at Bayville High School, they had to stop for a moment to straighten out their clothes from the ride.

Ranma made his coat and the helmets disappear once Kitty handed them to him.

"How do you do that?" the girl asked in pure curiosity.

"Training," answered Ranma simply. The technical explanation would likely go over her head and sound completely wrong coming from the guy who didn't give the impression of having all that impressive grades on his homework.

Already, the new gym was teeming with teens and loud music. It would seem they had made it just in time.

"After you," offered Ranma as they came to the doors. Naturally, to back up his offer, Ranma held the door open.

"Why, thank you," accepted Kitty with a curtsey and an amused giggle.

Once inside, Kitty practically pulled Ranma out to the dance floor where she started moving to the up-tempo beat.

Ranma, not familiar with modern dance outside ball-room style which he had learned in connection to Martial Arts, merely adopted some of the dance moves of the guys around him and made sure it was not only done in time with the music but done as well as he could. And considering the extent of control Ranma had over his body, that wasn't very modest.

Though Ranma didn't much enjoy dancing, he had to admit that the songs seemed to fly by.

While they danced, Ranma spotted several of the students from Xavier's Institute having fun. Even the Brotherhood had shown up, Pietro with four girls in his arms, and Blob and Toad with Tabitha. Toad looked like he had stepped out of an early eighties prom movie with his frilly shirt, off-white suit and mullet.

When the slow dance eventually came up, Ranma was almost uncertain about how to proceed. After all, he didn't know Kitty all that well, and physical contact of this nature was a fairly intimate deal.

Kitty solved the quandary by taking two steps closer and enveloping him in a hug, then started swaying in time with the music. Not one to rock the boat, so to speak, Ranma went with the motion, careful not to place his hands anywhere that would cause misunderstandings.

"This is nice," noted the brown-haired girl, though her voice was somewhat muffled through Ranma's shirt as she rested her head on his chest, which was a feat in itself as Ranma was barely a head taller than her.

"Yes," Ranma couldn't help but agree. "I'm not entirely comfortable being this close to anyone, though."

"That's okay," assured Kitty, though Ranma could swear he detected a sliver of disappointment in her tone. "Can't expect you to get over your ex with one slow dance, can we?"

The music changed to a faster pace but just as it did, Ranma felt a surge of energy from the middle of the dance floor.

He turned in time to see a shimmering surface, almost like the oily surface of a bubble, appearing and surrounded by a hoop of energy.

Light streamed from the soapy surface like the final rays of a setting sun, and suddenly something came through.

It resembled a runty Tyrannosaurus Rex with large, floppy spines protruding from its back. Its coloring was red, and it wasn't alone. More of the same creature poured out of the opening, growling and snapping at everyone.

Naturally, something feral and well armed in sharp teeth was to be feared, when its height was about waist-high, this threat increased.

The students panicked and tried to get away.

Ranma, caught by surprise, did not realize the physical strength of these small creatures being nearly three times what it should and was propelled across the gym when he blocked the impact of one of them against a stumbled girl.

With a crash, he impacted the wall where the stereo was standing, skipping the music from its preselected tracks to its mp3 drive.

Ranma shook his head and got to his feet in a hurry as the upbeat music built itself up.

"**Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?"** a throaty female voice sang over the speakers. **"Where's the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?"**

Ranma slammed his hands in a hay-maker to the jaw of the beast that had sent him flying, returning the favor just before it could sink its large maw into the terrified girl Ranma had defended.

"**Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need,"** continued the song, unaware of the events playing out in the gym.

Ranma helped the girl to her feet and ushered her towards one of the emergency exits before turning back to face the menace.

"**I need a hero!"** screamed the singing woman desperately. **"I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night!"**

Ranma chased the woozy creature and slammed a downwards axe kick into its skull, making a sizable indentation in the floor.

"**He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast,"** continued the song. **"And he's gotta be fresh from the fight!"**

By now the X-Men in the gym started taking on the creatures as well.

Jean tossed one from where it was pouncing a collection of guys who had tripped over a table while backing away, to the basketball hoop on the other end of the gym.

Scott fired off a somewhat controlled burst of his beams into the gaping maw of an approaching creature, slamming it into the wall several meters behind it.

"**I need a hero,"** cried the woman's voice. **"I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light! He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon and he's gotta be larger than life!"**

Ranma noted that a creature had passed through Kitty and was rising from a smashed table to retry the advance, and with a single bound leaped across the gym, finishing with a slam of his feet against the creature's spine, snapping it in an instant.

"**Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasies,"** the woman sang passionately.** "Somewhere just beyond my reach there's someone reaching back for me! Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat; it's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet!"**

As Ranma rushed to beat off the creature that threatened Jean repeatedly, he felt the floor shake and noted that Lance was using his powers, which created a chasm in the gym floor under the creature and slammed it shut again once it had fallen in.

"**I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night! He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight!"**

Seeing as super powers had already been displayed, Ranma didn't feel the need to hold back any more, and unleashed a set of chi claws from between his knuckles; a tribute to his friend who wasn't there.

"**I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light! He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon and he's gotta be larger than life!"**

With a slash of his claws, Ranma watched in morbid fascination as the creature fell to messy pieces on the gym floor. Jean had a look of gratefulness and discomfort as she turned to seek out more people to help.

The music rose to a crescendo as Ranma saw a beast stalk into the corridor connecting the gym to the school, and gave chase. As he came into the corridor, he idly noted that the music was playing over the intercom as well.

"**Up where the mountains meets the heavens above, out where the lightning splits the sea, I would swear that there's someone somewhere watching me!"**

Running down the corridor, Ranma saw Rogue and Risty cornered by one of the creatures, and sped up.

Just as Risty grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher to fight back, Ranma grabbed the tail of the beast and slammed it into the ground behind him, then repeated the slam a few more times.

"**Through the wind and the chill and the rain, and the storm and the flood! I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood!"**

Ranma snapped the neck of the dazed creature and was about to make sure it was dead by tearing off its head when a beam of blue light shot out and stuck the creature, which disappeared.

The final chorus of the song was drowned out as Ranma noted Forge approaching with a strange device.

"Fun's over, kid," announced a gruff voice Ranma recognized as Logan's just before he emerged from behind Forge. "Get back to your date before she thinks you stood her up or got hurt. We'll handle the rest."

"Did you really have to kill the ones you took care of?" asked Forge with a cringe. "I had to hit one of them nearly seven times before I got all the pieces."

"If attacked, retaliate with equal or greater intent," Ranma announced. "A rule that doesn't work in the human world, but in the animal kingdom it is expected if you're gonna survive."

More mutants appeared behind the two, but Kitty was not one of them.

"There must be another hole in my lab," Forge announced as Ranma moved past them. "We'd better close it fast or more of those things will come through."

Back in the gym, Ranma had no trouble spotting Kitty in the middle of the wrecked space. She was standing about where Lance had squished one of the creatures. From the looks of things the floor had been reopened afterward, probably for Forge so he could return the corpse to where it belonged.

"There you are," Kitty sighed in relief.

"What?" asked Ranma. "Afraid I got hurt by those things? Come on, it would take at least ten times their strength at once to break me. But most likely more than that."

"I know they wouldn't be a match for you," admitted Kitty.

"Then you worried I had run off," concluded Ranma. "You should know by now that I keep my promises once I make them."

"Sorry," apologized Kitty, clearly referring to her doubting his word.

"Don't worry about it," assured Ranma. "But seeing as the dance seems to be over early, how about I treat you to an ice cream while the Professor goes about cleaning up the witnesses' recollection of the day's events?"

* * *

Author's Notes: I'm REALLY sorry for the delay of this chapter. I ran into a writer's block early on, and got easily distracted by other projects.

Credits: The song used in this chapter is "Holding Out For a Hero" by Bonnie Tyler. And I apologize, Song Fics is not my strong side.

Corrections were made to the chapter within the first days of its post, there was a mix-up with holidays, which has been fixed. There was an issue concerning electricity for lighting and heating, which hopefully has been corrected within satisfactory limits.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation and unnecessary details in Author's Notes.


	20. Book 2 Chapter 17 Lull

Posted: Sunday 30 August 2009

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Seventeen – Lull

* * *

It was finished.

Two weeks following the Shadow Dance, the events of which had been altered in the minds of the witnesses to an attack by a pack of wild dogs, Ranma was waiting for the building inspector to finish his job.

He had given himself a little over a week to finish the job,

The entire job had been much simpler than Ranma had first imagined.

To start with, Ranma had borrowed a laser from Forge, which projected a completely level horizontal red line all the way around the rocky hill, roughly twenty feet from the top.

Then Ranma had used a single thin chi sheet shoved through from one side to the other as guides to make sure the platform he was carving was completely level before widening the sheet to the point where it protruded from the rock all around.

After that, Ranma had smashed, or rather pulverized the useless slab of rock resting on his platform, and swept the remains off the sides.

That had been day one of the construction.

Day two and three were mostly dedicated to creating the one thousand two hundred and seventy one steps that spiraled inwards and upwards. A good deal of concrete mix was used, but most of the added mass was merely the debris from the plateau carving.

It had taken ten mixing tubs and ten clones to finish the cement mix in time. And Ranma was sure those scrap yards wouldn't even notice he had stolen a few cars, which had been torn apart and reshaped into metal rods to support the drying cement mix. The shape of the steps was maintained through the use of temporary seals and spatulas.

In addition, the water part of the cement mix had been partially replaced with alcohol, which had been surprisingly cheap. Normally, while allowing the mixture to dry much faster, this would make the substance much more brittle and was the reason no sane construction company would use it unless the temperature was below freezing. But they didn't have the advantage of 'magical' seals, as Ranma did.

Finishing off the day, Ranma had measured out where he would make subterranean levels and where the supports and pillars would go, and marked them accordingly.

It was a good thing he knew the Breaking Point and had used it in conjunction with ki etching for the marking, or any chalk or ink mark would have washed away in the rain that came that night.

The next day Ranma had excavated six feet deep grooves for every house and wall support beam and column he would make, and then set about making the subterranean chambers with controlled Breaking Point bursts combined with chi blades.

Though the subterranean levels were not part of the submitted plans, Ranma was sure any digging would be taken as being done for plumbing purposes. Though to keep up the pretense, Ranma supposed he would need to connect plumbing to the main lines. And it wasn't as though he was going to admit to the authorities that he had made secret chambers inside the hill.

The fifth day was spent finishing the chambers, the bottom one becoming an underground parking garage that flipped open just outside the reach of the steps. The door was covered in turf and grass, which was adhered on with seals to prevent anything from falling off when opening and closing.

In order to get the door to work, Ranma had some help from Forge, again, who designed the pneumatic arms to work on the same fuel cell power source as Ranma's bike – which meant Ranma had his own little power plant in the top subterranean chamber, which would only require some water every now and again to keep going. Hydrogen, while combustible, was a very clean source of power, and if stored properly would be much safer than gasoline.

Logan got wind of what Ranma was doing at that time, and leaped at the chance to get away from the house-o-teenagers for a while by being kind enough to 'offer' his services, having some experience in construction and a knack for 'convincing' people to see things his way.

At the end of the fifth day, Ranma erected the support beams for constructions, gates and walls. The lumber was expensive, but that was due to the quantity rather than the quality of the product.

He then fitted the rest of the frame system into place.

Logan's job was mostly cutting the holes and slots for the beams to fit together, and laying the wooden floors.

The entirety of day six was spent making traditional rice paper walls and doors, unadorned with artwork, and fitting them into place where they were supposed to go.

The seventh day was spent roofing and raising the compound walls. The last hour of the day was for raising pillars along the steps.

To help, Xavier had arranged for a plumber to install or supervise Ranma's plumbing. It ended up being a combination of both as some pipes were too heavy for normal people to pick up and slide into place, but at the end of the day the plumbing had been finished and the plumber had returned home with absolutely no idea of what he had done that day thanks to the telepath's alterations of perceptions.

The remainder of the day was spent painting and lacquering the wood so it wouldn't look so shabby. The paint, which Forge had insisted on being 'green' in the sense of not having any toxic emissions during its productions or use, was not cheap but was surprisingly easy to distribute evenly on the wood, and rather than an oily smell, it smelled more like cream which only made Ranma hungry.

On the eighth day, while waiting for the inspector to arrive, Ranma laid roof over the wooden pillars that dotted the steps so anyone who walked up them would be relatively dry in the event of rain or other forms of water descending from the sky. Then an army of clones, or rather ten, ran around pasting finished seals for stability, insulation and indestructibility on every surface of the property.

Making an inspection of his own was also one of the things he did, and he finished it just in time to greet the inspector at the bottom of the steps.

The inspector was a middle-aged man, mostly bald with a thin comb-over, black suit and thick glasses. His wiry form spoke of no training, but neither excessive nor unhealthy eating habits. The worry lines on his face spoke of a man who took his work serious enough not to accept bribes, and conscientious enough to report any error no matter who or what was at stake.

As Ranma had intended, the unfit would have a difficult time getting to the top of the steps without being thoroughly exhausted, and he offered the inspector a cup of coffee from his thermos, allowing him a few minutes to catch his breath.

The return of the inspector broke Ranma from his amused recollection of how bushed the man had been.

"Everything seems to be in order," the man announced. "Plumbing works like a charm, solar panels are supplying power to the lights, the fire pits seem well ventilated and the areas inside three feet around them fireproof, the walls are stable and surprisingly well insulated, roof seems a bit extravagant but is functional and solid, the masonry is well up to par, but consider having a ramp or elevator installed if you intend on having the handicapped or elderly for a visit."

"I'll take it under advisement," agreed Ranma reluctantly. Personally, he had considered this, but the only handicapped person he knew was his employer, who had access to a jet and a helicopter, either of which would be able to fit in the courtyard if the pilot had a steady hand. And both of the elderly people he knew would be able to scale the steps in seconds while going in a straight ascending line.

"Be sure to have everything in order for next time, then," sighed the inspector and looked tiredly down the side of the plateau Ranma had created. "Well, I'd better go. I have to file my report on this place before I leave for the day and I have a feeling getting down will take some time."

"So, I pass the inspection?" asked Ranma, not entirely certain of what the man had indicated.

"With the exception of the difficulty in entering the building, you pass with flying colors," clarified the man. "Provided your friends and family survives the climb, then it would be the right time to throw a housewarming party."

As the inspector dejectedly descended the steps, Ranma pondered his next move.

He didn't have many possessions back at the Brotherhood, so getting everything from there to his new home would be simple and removing the seals from every surface of his room there would only take a few moments.

Of course, finances would be a little tight until his next pay check from the Professor, and there was very little doubt he would be denied entry the next time he showed his face at an underground fighting tournament. All he had left after buying the property, permits and construction material was a fistful of dollars and a sock-full of coins; a concept he had gotten from overhearing the boys of the Brotherhood talking. The purpose of the sock-full of coins eluded him, but it was a nice place to keep the coins, as the cloth expanded with added content without bursting like most other containers did.

Though he had no doubt the Professor would pay his salary in advance if asked, Ranma didn't want to waste favors when he'd earned them.

What he needed was cash, and preferably legally.

* * *

"Strike, again," sighed Ranma as the bowling alley lane was cleared of fallen pins. "This game is too easy ..."

"So?" Logan shrugged. "Not everything needs to be a challenge, kid."

"But this is so easy," complained Ranma. "It's the last frame, of my first game I might add, and I've got a score of two-hundred and ten! I bet I could get a perfect game next time I play!"

"Let's save that for next time," grunted Logan. "Storm has been watching the kids long enough. Time to head out."

Ranma undid his rented shoes and was returning them when a poster caught his attention.

"What's the hold-up?" Logan called, having noticed that Ranma was lagging behind.

"Think this is anything I could make money on?" Ranma nodded at the poster which proclaimed the New York State Bowling Championship would start soon, and encouraged every interested party to join up.

"First prize is twenty thousand dollars," informed the slovenly man behind the shoe counter and dug a finger into his left ear, then examined the wax at the end of the digit when it was extracted. "Second place gets a year's supply of freeze-dried corn dogs. Third place is given a gift certificate for a local bowling shop worth two hundred dollars."

"Where do I sign up?" Ranma could not keep from asking.

"I'll get the forms ..." the man sighed reluctantly, not happy about having to leave his comfortable seat.

"You sure about this, kid?" asked Logan. "There are less public ways of legally earning a lot of money than to participate in a sport that will be broadcast on sports channels all over the country."

"Of course I'm not sure, but maybe I can count this towards extracurricular activities if the PE teacher sees it," shrugged Ranma. "After Beast left Bayville High, the replacement has not been as willing to let me work on my own. He thinks I'm embarrassed of my abilities or something and that he's helping me by forcing me to compete against the rest of the class like everyone else. Maybe now he'll keep his trap shut ..."

"I wouldn't bet on it," snorted Logan. "I'm familiar with the type. He'll likely consider this further proof that you're capable of more than you're showing and will hound you even more."

"No matter what I do, there's always someone who wants to get me," groaned Ranma.

"We're nails stickin' out of the wood," shrugged Logan. "Some people just can't help but try to pound us back into formation."

"Or remove us," agreed Ranma. "Speaking of removed, why didn't you leap at the chance to go on that nature trip with Hank?"

"He's goin' with a bunch of kids," Logan admitted. "And I'm not gonna add the normal complaints of pampered teens in a comfy environment to the ruggedness of the wild. Let's not forget that these are mutant teens, which makes keepin' 'em in line that much harder."

"They are pretty soft ..." Ranma could not help but agree. "I bet half of them wouldn't make it a week in the wild on their own."

"You're right," Logan grunted, and hefted his own bowling ball bag over his shoulder, indicating he wanted to leave. "I'll have to look into survival training for 'em some time."

"You won't get praise from them," warned Ranma, keeping up with the man.

"Not expecting any," snorted Logan. "Havin' 'em survive in harsh conditions is praise enough for me."

"Yeah," agreed Ranma, and climbed into Logan's jeep. Logan's bowling ball made a heavy thud as it landed in the back seat, but other than that, nothing was said before the engine started.

"When are you going to throw a house-warming party?" wondered Logan idly as he flipped off a honking driver who had issues with the gruff man's manner of driving. "The house has been finished for a few days already."

"I've barely settled in," argued Ranma. "And why do I have to throw a party just because I got my own place? Haven't I spent enough on the house and permits already?"

"No need to get your panties in a bunch, kid," Logan placated while laughing at him. "Make it pot-luck, that way your guests bring the food and drink."

"If I have to ..." sighed Ranma in resignation.

* * *

Author's Notes: I know this chapter was rather short and static, I cannot make excuses for it. For some reason, the 'will' or 'flaming passion' to write has not been 'burning brightly' as Maito Gai might have put it, and this story has been the biggest victim of this lack of inspiration. I tried getting the 'juices' flowing by writing on other stories, and was successful to some degree, but not enough.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, filled in missing words and incomplete sentences.


	21. Book 2 Chapter 18 Encounters

Posted: Wednesday 17 February 2010

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Eighteen – Meetings

* * *

The 'housewarming' party had gone off without much trouble, and the cleaning had only taken a few minutes once it was over.

Ranma's guests had only been the mutants from the manor, Boom-Boom, and Forge, and with the Professor present the younger generation was on their best behavior. Music was played at the beginning, and silenced as some guests suggested party games. Boom-Boom's suggestion of a game of strip poker had been turned down promptly by Storm.

The potential problem with handicap access had been solved when Forge stopped by the day before and helped Ranma install a cross between an elevator and an escalator which would drive a platform up the steps on rails, on which the wheelchair would stand. When not in use, the platform could be folded up to one side, so it wouldn't be in the way.

The bowling tournament went well until some of the older players demanded Ranma be tested for drugs after scoring a perfect game for the third time.

It came as no surprise to Ranma to find Mr. Ewing consorting with the group of men who had accused him. The man probably put them up to it.

Still, the prize money was awarded to him after the series of tests came back negative for any performance enhancing substances.

Logan could not witness all of the tournament, as the government pulled him away to help on something they wouldn't reveal. Ranma didn't mind that much, but he was annoyed when he discovered that Kitty and Kurt had stowed away and joined Logan in his mission.

And not three days after the house-warming, Tabitha showed up on his gate asking for a place to stay "for old times' sake" since she had been kicked out of the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House by the returning Mystique who had brought someone with her.

Even if he really wanted to, Ranma could not turn the teenage girl to the streets and showed her to one of his guest rooms, telling her that he'd key her in to the security, and to not even waste the energy in trying to blast anything apart if it didn't work. He also made it perfectly clear that any 'partying' would have to take place outside the property, because if he found trespassers he would not be kind.

"And clean up after yourself," Ranma added needlessly. "I'm not your mom!"

"Are you saying I make a mess?" Boom-Boom asked sweetly.

"Only when you use your powers, which is all the time," Ranma accused evenly. "If you must use your powers, practice in the courtyard out front, that's where I've specifically set aside space for such things."

The blonde girl scowled at Ranma for a moment, offended at the accuracy in his statement. Then her face brightened. "Could you do me a favor?" she asked in a cutesy voice, pouting and blinking big innocent eyes at him.

Ranma sensed trouble, but couldn't help but answer. "Sure."

"Great!" Boom-Boom exclaimed. "I'll make the shopping list, and you can pick me up a few things!"

"What things?" Ranma asked slowly. The vicious grin on the girl's face should have been ample warning for what was to come.

* * *

Ranma grumbled to himself about becoming a doormat for women as he pushed a shopping cart in front of him at the local Cubs supermarket.

Normally, he'd try to limit his expenses by shopping at local grocers or making things himself, but as he was playing host to someone who had accepted him from his arrival he could not outright refuse to meet her grocery and hygiene needs.

So he decided to cut down on time and do his own shopping at the same time.

While he was trying to decide which brand tampons Tabitha's list said to get, he felt something slip into his jeans' right pocket. It was so subtle that he first started to think he had imagined it, but the close proximity of a grown man at the time it happened sent off a great deal of red flags.

Taking out the item, Ranma found a pack of cigarettes, unfiltered.

The man who had slipped the pack into his pocket had gone from his sight, but Ranma knew he had felt that aura somewhere before, and stuffed the pack behind some packs of maxi pads and grabbed one of those as well as they were on the list.

Among other things on Tabitha's list, Ranma had to pick up dark red lipstick, mascara, concealing cream, eye shadow, eye liners, tweezers, curlers, nail color in purple, nail polish, nail polish remover, hand cream, moisturizing facial cream, zit cream, hair gel, hair clips, a pair of hot pink lacy panties in size 6, a matching hot pink bra in size C, and a romantic novel called the Erotic Exploits of Escobar. Thankfully that was the end of the embarrassingly feminine products, though Ranma almost wished he had read the list before entering the store and changed into female form, but it was too late now. The rest of the list was what Tabitha referred to as her dietary requirements, and was composed of semi-healthy foods and soda pop.

Still, after a bit of wandering back and forth, Ranma wheeled the bulging cart to the register and started unloading.

The man behind the register raised his brows at the feminine products, but didn't say a word.

"I'm letting a girl stay at my place and managed to piss her off," Ranma explained in answer to the unasked question.

"Whatever you say, sir," the man replied neutrally, but nodded in understanding. Ranma could have sworn he heard the man mutter about Ranma not being a size 6, anyway.

Ranma had finished piling everything into paper bags and back into the shopping cart when a uniformed man clapped his hand on Ranma's left shoulder.

"Son, I think we need to talk in my office," the security officer announced.

"Is there a problem?" Ranma heard a familiar voice ask smugly.

"Just following through on an anonymous tip," the officer answered and tugged on Ranma's arm. "Come along."

As Ranma was pulled along, he turned back and glared at Mr. Ewing, recognizing the aura of the one who slipped the pack of cigarettes into his pocket.

Ranma was soon inside a small office with a few filing cabinets, a few security monitors, a desk, a chair, a computer and a phone, his purchases trailing behind him in the cart.

"Alright, son, would you empty your pockets?" the officer requested.

"There's nothing in them except my wallet," Ranma shrugged and placed the leather storage device on the wooden desk. The officer picked it up and examined its content.

"Right, Mr. Saotome," the man said wearily. "Do you have any idea how many punk teens I get through here a week looking to get away with things they won't pay for?"

"No idea," replied Ranma, intentionally leaving out the honorific due to the inconvenience he was being forced through.

"I catch at least a dozen every week," the man lectured. "Now, do you know how many of them pretend nothing was wrong?"

"I want to say every one of them, but I doubt new hands at theft are very subtle," theorized Ranma idly.

"Oh, they make a very convincing case," corrected the officer. "Claim they have no idea how their pockets became stuffed with beer cans, tobacco, condoms, candy or whatnot, and beg me not to call their parents. Do you honestly think I'll just take your word for it that you have nothing else in your pockets?"

"I'm guessing 'no'," ventured Ranma. "Well, I have a receipt for what's in the cart, and since the alarm didn't go off when I passed through the register we can safely assume I'm not wearing any stolen clothes, which leaves the possibility of something stuffed down my pants."

Ranma turned around and patted his back pockets.

"Nothing there," he stated to the officer. He then turned back around and turned his front pockets inside out. "And nothing there."

"I must admit you make a convincing argument," the officer stated. "But I'll still need to pat you down myself."

"If this is how you treat your customers, I feel sure I'll be taking my business elsewhere in the future," Ranma commented as he held his arms out at shoulder height, inviting the action that was demanded.

While the man was thorough, he was also sensitive enough not to linger in certain spots.

"Are we done?" Ranma questioned as he straightened imaginary wrinkles from his trousers and shirt.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," the security officer apologized gruffly, now realizing that Ranma's claims were truthful. "But we have to investigate reports of shoplifting."

"If the one who reported it is who I think it is, then he's held a grudge against me since I got his son expelled and hopefully soon placed in Juvenile Detention," Ranma informed the officer. "He's also got something against the Japanese, which means I'm a walking insult to him for some reason. Please consider this again if I'm pointed out by another anonymous tip, and I won't follow through on my threat to not return."

"I understand," the officer agreed. "I'll keep a copy of your ... pilot's license? What would a teenager need one of those for?"

"A few older friends of mine have them and helped me get mine," Ranma dismissed.

"Right ... anyway, I'll keep a copy of the license here with the warning not to believe every tip-off we get on you," the officer suggested. At Ranma's nod, the man left his office and entered the one next to his, where soon the sound of a copier started up. "All set up. Please accept this coupon book as a sign of my apologies."

Ranma accepted the bible-thick book of coupons, and after a few more minutes of apologies from the officer Ranma had left the store, passing a pair of real policemen on the way out. The hushed tones the security officer used while conversing with them indicated that they had been called before any real theft had been confirmed. But by the professional behavior of the officer, Ranma doubted he had done it, which meant Ewing had taken the liberty of doing so.

For various reasons, Ranma had not taken the bike to go shopping, so the only attention he needed worry about was the kind he got for balancing five large paper bags in one arm while loading the cart back into the other carts, and from carrying said bags down the street while they obscured his vision yet never bumped into anyone or anything.

"Took your sweet time," was the first thing Ranma heard upon entering his house. Tabitha's voice alone emerged from the downstairs bathroom. "Couldn't handle the load?"

"Security kept me back for suspected shoplifting," Ranma grumbled and dropped the bags on the kitchen counter. "Need to find out a way to keep morons like Mr. Ewing from bothering me anymore."

"Did you get everything?"

"Everything," confirmed Ranma. "Even strange looks from the cashier."

"Good, because I really need some underwear right now!"

Ranma paused in his unpacking as a pair of arms wrapped around him and started rummaging through the paper bags from behind.

"Which bag did you put them in?" the teasing voice of Tabitha asked.

Ranma, distracted by the realization that only his shirt and a towel separated the firm but squishy breasts from poking into his back, tugged on one of the bags in reply.

"Thanks sweet cheeks," Tabitha replied and snatched the pink cloth with one hand, while goosing Ranma with the other.

Turning around, Ranma was rewarded with the sight of Tabitha bending down to pull the panties on while still wearing the towel around her middle.

It went without saying that little was hidden, even less so when the girl dropped the towel to put on the bra.

Ranma suddenly wondered whether he'd made a good or bad decision in letting someone as spontaneous as Boom-Boom stay with him.

A damp towel to the face and a teasing giggle said it was a bad idea, but the lewd posing had Ranma's body disagreeing with his brain.

"I guess you just discovered one of the perks of having a vivacious young woman sharing your home with you," Tabitha declared smugly as she slipped around the corner to the corridor leading to her room.

"I'll be lucky if I survive the week," Ranma noted to himself. "At least it can't get much worse."

"And think how much fun we can have!" called the blonde girl from elsewhere in the house. "When you're a girl we can do each others' make-up and hair!"

The only sound that followed was the dull thump of a hard head striking an unyielding wooden table.

* * *

The next day, as Ranma went back to school he found that there had been a few of his fellow Bayville High School students at the supermarket when he was taken to the security officer's office, and rumors were spreading that he had been caught shop lifting.

As a result of this, the students at large were weary of him but didn't bother to ask whether the rumors were true.

"So, I hear you're a hardened criminal."

Of course, this did not include those he was already on speaking terms with, which included Jean, who ignored how uncomfortable Ranma felt being that close to his ex girlfriend and sat down next to him during lunch.

"What really happened?"

"Someone tried to frame me," Ranma answered as casually as he could. "I discovered it before the security officer came along and put away the pack of cigarettes. They gave me a big book of coupons to apologize for the inconvenience."

"And how have you been?" the redhead asked cautiously.

"I'll survive," admitted Ranma. "Tabitha was thrown out of the Brotherhood and managed to convince me into letting her stay at my place. She's complaining about how I don't have a TV or any other electrical convenience, but either she'll move out faster because of it, or she'll adapt."

"Or she'll convince you to get what she wants," added Jean. "Just be careful, she has a strange sense of humor."

"I know," Ranma snorted. "She had me go on a shopping spree from Hell for saying that her powers were messy. The guy at the register gave me some weird looks when I paid for it all."

"What kinds of things were there?" asked Jean, intrigued.

"Largely frilly, pink underwear and feminine products," Ranma answered, turning to cover his blush. He caught movement, or the lack of it in the corner of his eye. "The kinds of things most men would refuse to get without the woman they were meant for sitting on their shoulders so they could prove they weren't strange."

"That sounds like something she'd do," agreed Jean.

"Could you do me a favor?" Ranma asked suddenly, putting down his sandwich.

"That would depend on what that favor was," answered Jean cautiously.

"Tell Scott to ask me himself if he wants to know something," said Ranma, jabbing his thumb at where Scott was watching the pair of them intently.

"He didn't ask me to check with you," argued Jean, placing a hand on Ranma's shoulder. Ranma could see Scott tense at the contact. Jean looked at where Ranma had indicated and sighed. "He's had a crush on me for a while, though."

"Even I noticed that," snorted Ranma.

"Hey, roomie!" greeted an overly cheerful Tabitha, who dropped into the seat on Ranma's other side and tousled his hair. "Have you heard about the new girl?"

"What new girl?" asked Ranma, doing his very best not to let the girl's actions anger him.

"Wanda Maximoff," Tabitha elaborated. "Pietro's sister. She's the one Mystique brought back with her when I was thrown out. She's over there."

Ranma followed Tabitha's nod with his eyes, and found a girl his age, about as high as he was, short black hair with purple coloring along the sides of her head, defined purple eye shadow and lips, and scarlet clothing in the form of a scarlet, body suit with slashes on her legs, covered by a tattered scarlet ankle-length trench coat. Over her forearms, she wore black elbow-length gloves without fingers. On her legs she wore knee-high boots with metal plating on the shins and insteps. Around her neck she wore a black necklace with a silver ankh matching those hanging from her ears.

Overall, she was an attractive girl to Ranma's eyes, and had he not been sandwiched between his ex girlfriend and his female housemate, he might have been tempted to approach her.

"Put your eyes back in your head," scolded a humored British girl as she sat down across from Harry, joined by Rogue. "There are plenty of attractive girls sitting at _this_ table, no need to slobber over someone from across the room."

"You dog," joked Tabitha and nudged Ranma a bit harder than necessary. "You need more tail to chase, is that it? You've had two girlfriends since you got here less than a year ago, and already you're looking for another?"

"I only had ONE girlfriend," Ranma defended himself. "I don't know what you thought we had, but it wasn't a relationship."

"I know that," Tabitha smirked. "But I just love getting under your skin."

"Let's forget the new girl," suggested Risty and leaned forwards. "Did you hear the Bayville mall was leveled last night? Everything was destroyed! The police are baffled!"

"They didn't find a massive crater in the middle?" asked Ranma, suddenly alert. "Or some tiger-striped bandana embedded somewhere? Did the security cameras record a black piglet? Or a purple cat? Or a duck wearing glasses?"

"No," Risty answered, looking at Ranma with a slightly disturbed expression. "I don't think so."

"Relax, Ranma," assured Jean. "I don't think any of your old friends had anything to do with it."

"Ah'm sure of it," added Rogue. Her tone indicated that she wanted to share more, but with the presence of Risty, she didn't dare. Ranma didn't know why Risty chose not to reveal her mutant ability, but then none of the other mutants had come forwards to her and she could be afraid of what people might think. But it wasn't his place to tell other people's secrets.

"I think something's going on," Risty whispered in a conspiratorial manner. "I find it a little strange that only a few days after Tabitha is evicted, this girl shows up living at the Brotherhood Boarding House. And then she shows up here at school the same day as news of the Mall came out. There might be some kind of connection ..."

"I'm sure you're right," agreed Ranma, sharing a look with Jean and Rogue, who nodded to confirm the assumption he had drawn when they assured him it wasn't anyone from Japan. So, the X-Men had an altercation with the Brotherhood the night before, and from the miserable and resentful short looks the two girls cast at Wanda, she was involved in the destruction of the Mall. "Maybe you could tell the Professor that I'll be dropping by sometime this week?"

"I'll tell him," Jean assured Ranma, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "Is it about training?"

"No," Ranma dismissed in the same tone. "Well, not exactly. I'll be bringing Forge to have a look at the Danger Room, have him copy some of the programming and all that so I can make a Danger Room of my own."

"Are you sure he'll allow that?" asked Jean, casting looks at Risty, who had started discussing some metal rock band with Rogue and Tabitha. "Wouldn't that be a breach of security?"

"It's my job to break his security," smirked Ranma jovially. "I'm sure it won't hurt to try."

* * *

Author's Notes: We're nearing the end of season two in the storyline of X-Men Evolution, only two episodes left and they are extensions of each other so it's really just one episode left in the season; namely the one that reveals the existence of mutants to the world at large. Sorry for the spoiler, if anyone hasn't gotten that far.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, needless and outdated information in AN.


	22. Book 2 Chapter 19 Ranma Goes to Town

Posted: Thursday 27 February 2010

Re-posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Nineteen – Ranma Goes to Town

* * *

Something was not right.

Ranma couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something out of the ordinary at the Mansion.

For one thing, he couldn't find the Professor, and there were no records of him leaving for some meeting or other since the week before the new girl showed up at school.

Another thing was that he had found Jean in the Cerebro chamber. She had been told by the Professor to start her training in its use.

And then there was the telephone call he had gotten from the Professor.

Logan had gone missing while tracking the mutant known as Sabretooth, and neither Storm nor Beast could find the man beyond the traces that indicated Magneto had something to do with the disappearance. The Professor wanted Ranma to use his skills to track down Logan and whoever had taken him, and rescue the mutant if necessary.

As he was done with his homework and had not had any sick days yet, Ranma arranged for the Professor to report to the school that he was ill so he would have a few more days to search than the weekend.

With no obligations tying him down, Ranma filled his cupboards with food so Tabitha wouldn't starve, and rode off for New York on his bike.

* * *

Wading through the sewage of the storm drains where Logan had been taken was not a pleasant experience.

Ranma winced as yet another dead rat floated by her. Though she had seen far more terrifying and nasty things, the normally ignored girlish side of her couldn't help but flinch.

Beast and Storm were no longer down there, but had left the metal grate for her to find, propped up against the wall, on top of a ledge.

There was no doubt that Logan had been there, what with how cut up the grate was. The twisted shape it was in indicated that someone very strong or with a mutant power to control metal had also been present. The lack of hand impressions in the metal ruled out physical strength as the cause of the deformed metal covering.

It was not possible to keep track of scents so long after the fact, especially in such a pungent area as the sewers, so Ranma didn't bother trying.

However, the walls bore witness to someone carrying something heavy down the pipes, a few scratches here, and a few smudges in the grime. Not something a stranger to the environment would notice under normal circumstances, but Ranma was experienced in tracking, so small signs weren't hard to pick up.

After several twists and turns, Ranma emerged from the storm drains near the harbor.

Immediately outside, there were tracks on the ground from a big vehicle, most likely a truck.

"Damn," cursed Ranma as she followed the tracks to the road, where the large number of other cars passing by had erased all trace of the truck she wanted to find.

She had not given up on tracking down Logan or his abductors, but she couldn't leave her bike in place much longer, or there might be a pile of shocked would-be-thieves around it.

Ranma did not return to the drains, but rather navigated the streets from memory of how far she had traveled and which turns she had taken.

On the way, she stopped by a coffee shop to get a cup of warm water, and promptly changed gender once out of sight.

Restored to his proper gender, Ranma returned on course towards the parking space where he left his bike.

Near the halfway mark, Ranma had to stop suddenly to allow a masked man to run past him instead of into him. Of course, seeing as the man was running from armed security guards out of a building with the bold name "Fisk Towers", he stuck out his foot to trip the masked man.

Unlike what he expected, the man did not fall, but rather threw himself forward and rolled back to his feet without losing much in the way of momentum.

That would not do.

The man was clearly a criminal, and Ranma didn't want him to get away that easily.

With only a few big bounds, Ranma appeared before the masked man who had gotten a bit up an alley across the street.

"That's as far as you go," he declared.

The man stopped for a moment, allowing Ranma to better examine his opponent.

His mask was white, hard, and nearly skin-tight against his forehead and eyes, yet below that it was smooth and thinner than the rest of the mask below the zygomatic bone, with three slashes dropping to the jaw line, almost like a stylized human skull. Under the mask was a black cloth that covered his neck. The black eye sockets of the mask had only a pair of glowing yellow lines of light where the eyes would be.

His torso was covered in a tight, short-sleeved gray jacket with a hood, which was up. The pants matched the jacket in color, and were made of an elastic but durable material. His knees, thighs, shins and forearms were covered in white armor padding of some kind. His hands were covered in fingerless gloves that matched the rest of his ensemble.

Straps ran from shoulders and under the arms to the back, where a sword of some kind was mounted with the hilt pointing out over the left shoulder.

Hanging under the arms from the same straps as the sword, were a pair of gun holsters with semi-automatic weapons.

On the back of the right forearm padding was a red crystal of some kind.

Slung across his right shoulder was a book bag or computer bag filled with something, which was probably the reason the man was being chased.

"Why don't you just give up?" suggested Ranma with a cocky grin. Sure, he had been surprised when the man had dived into the fall and come out without a stop, but anyone with even the least bit of training could achieve that skill.

"I don't really care who you think you are," said the masked man, his voice warped by some kind of technology. "But I worked too hard to get this thing to let a young punk like you stop me."

"Then I guess that means we fight," Ranma deduced.

"That's right," agreed the masked man, and did something to the crystal.

Immediately, a round shield about three feet across appeared over the right forearm, and was flung at Ranma.

As Ranma blocked the normally defensive tool, he felt that there was no real mass in it, it was made from energy, yet had some solidity to it. The shield bounced off his forearm protectors, and returned to the crystal, which Ranma realized was projecting the thing.

"If that's all you've got, then you're in a lot of trouble," decided Ranma and took a firmer stance to display that he had training.

Behind the masked man, the security guards were approaching cautiously with their weapons pointed at the man, though they were unsure what to make of Ranma and didn't count him as being on their side.

"You might want to put those things away before you make holes where they don't belong," suggested Ranma. Like the masked man, the security guards did not listen. "Why is it that no one listens to me?"

"You're a kid," shrugged the masked man, popping a few joints and stretching a few neck muscles in the same movement. "They're past their thirties. The older you get, the less you think the younger ones know. Now, get out of my way, or I'll have to, as you put it, 'make some holes where they don't belong,'"

"You don't stand a chance," Ranma warned.

The masked man rushed in with a classic wing chun strike, and was surprised when Ranma not only blocked but redirected the strike with his forearms as the style dictated one should defend.

Ranma then used his skill and strength to overcome the immediate defensive response, and clapped the man across where his ears would be to disorient him.

It worked, if only momentarily, and Ranma managed to catch the edge of the mask and pull it off, briefly revealing a light head of hair.

However as he did, the man triggered a smoke bomb as well as a spray of some powder into Ranma's face.

Ranma's senses were overwhelmed with fire, and he instinctively shielded his face from further damage as he waited for the sensation to pass.

Ranma heard the man run away.

He heard the bomb cease its emissions.

He heard the security officers inching closer.

When he heard the demand for him to put his hands behind his back and come with them, he refused. After all, he had done nothing wrong. If anything, they neglected their jobs by not exploiting the openings he had left for them during the confrontation.

When he felt the cold metal of the revolver one of the guards carried press against his head, Ranma used what training he had with firearms to disarm the guard with a single hand.

The telltale cocking of another gun made the blinded Ranma realize the predicament he had himself in.

He was armed, had associated with a clearly dangerous criminal, had just disarmed a guard by twisting his arm and refused to come quietly.

Still, being shot didn't sound very productive, nor did leaving the gun behind to give them his fingerprints, so Ranma did what any self respecting martial artist would do in his situation; namely take to the rooftops.

Of course, being blinded by some kind of powder; strong spices if the aftertaste of wasabi was anything to go by, he had to rely on memory of the alley he had only been exposed to for a few moments before being blinded.

So it was that Ranma overshot the rooftop to his left by twelve feet as he kicked off the ground and jumped from one wall to the other; quite a feat when unable to see how near the walls were.

As he rolled with his fall, Ranma's lost senses started returning through the burning.

Though inflamed, Ranma's eyes could distinguish light and shadow enough to let him navigate his way across the rooftops in the same direction he had been walking.

As he had already drawn so much attention, Ranma didn't bother hiding his progress as he looked for his bike.

* * *

By the time he reached his bike, Ranma had stowed away the gun and mask in stuff space to avoid leaving behind a trace, and his vision, sense of smell and taste had returned.

"That was a dirty trick," muttered the boy as he sat astride the metal horse, which was strangely clear of any shocked thieves.

Not wanting to return to Bayville empty-handed, Ranma went in search of a place to stay until he found Logan.

* * *

If there was one thing New York had an abundance of, it was traffic, and on average there had to be some sort of motel or hotel every other block.

Ranma found an anonymous, cheap motel by the Hudson River, and spent the next week or so combing government properties for clues.

On occasion, he came across a few research facilities for such companies as "Stark Industries", "Osborn Industries, inc" and even the "Wilson Fisk Industries" he had been at when he ran into the masked man, and he made sure not to get caught on camera, having gotten quite adept at locating the digital recording devices in his job at the Mansion.

It was interesting to watch how advanced technology was becoming in labs, but he could for the life of him not figure out what kinds of advances could be made by studying spiders, nor why a bunch of school kids from Queens would be interested in visiting the facility. Granted, the scientist working with those squid-like metal arms was interesting to watch, but nothing else caught his attention about that place.

It had taken some doing, but after some research, Ranma found out that the masked man he had been momentarily blinded by was called Taskmaster, a mercenary with a mysterious past and an ability to get by security measures with a form of holographic disguise similar to the kind that kept Kurt from terrifying the public with his demonic appearance.

Another character had made an appearance in New York, at least according to the newspapers.

Spider-Man.

That was what they called him.

He apparently shot out webs to swing by, ran up and down walls, and beat up bad guys, leaving them for the police to find.

Ranma would have been tempted to look this guy up to find out if he was a mutant or martial artist had it not been for a lead on an underground research facility hidden beneath an abandoned plot of land in the industrial area of town.

When he came near the place, Ranma knew something was wrong.

The Blackbird was parked behind an old warehouse next to the helicopter made of plastic which was used for a confrontation with Magneto a year earlier, and the X-Men and the Brotherhood were fighting some other mutants.

It could not be a coincidence that they had appeared where he had discovered the hidden facility, and it irked Ranma to not have been the first to discover it. After all, that was what he had been sent to do, find Logan.

Ranma ducked under an unwillingly airborne Toad as he dashed across the open space, and jumped over a flaming barrel.

As he found the weakest spot on the property, one of the warehouses collapsed from Avalanche's trademark tremors.

The ground was real, but only a few feet thick before metal platforms and beams appeared.

Ranma prepared the use of an excessively destructive technique if misused, the Breaking Point, when the ground shook under him.

This was not the same tremors as those Lance produced, but more the result of dozens of metal girders and plating being removed at once, causing the ground to collapse immediately beneath where he was standing.

He fell, as did most of the others standing on the property.

The fall was relatively short, only about three hundred feet. He'd landed without a scratch from equally high jumps before, but at those times he didn't have a few tonnes of dirt around him, nor did he have other people falling alongside him.

The dirt softened the landing a little.

Ranma for his part had no marks on him, but the others were dazed and confused.

So it was not so surprising to him to find dozens of armed men standing in different levels surrounding the crash site, pointing their high velocity projectile weapons at them.

Ranma had trained for this type of situation though he had hoped he'd never need it, but the others hadn't and would be unable to dodge bullets. So as not to draw fire, Ranma remained still.

The others needed to be notified of the armed response to their presence by the cocking of the numerous weapons.

"Nobody move," Storm warned the mutants surrounding Ranma.

"Who wants to move?" Toad wondered idly as he stared at the many weapons aimed in their direction.

Ranma rolled his eyes at the interaction, and idly wondered how many of the soldiers he could wound with the gun in his possession before the others were turned into Swiss cheese.

A distant rumble shook him from his musings.

"Hold your fire!" the moustachioed man in the middle called out.

The distant rumbling came closer, and Ranma thought it almost sounded like footsteps.

"Now what?" asked Spyke.

"Sound like ... footsteps," Kurt remarked, confirming Ranma's opinion.

"Operatives!" called the moustachioed man, raising his arm into the air. "Move out!"

As one, the dozens of armed men evacuated the area, leaving Ranma and the active mutants to face whatever was big enough to make footsteps that shook the very ground they were on.

When the proclaimed operatives had cleared out, one of the walls was blasted down, revealing a twenty foot tall human-like shape.

As the huge shape stepped closer, it revealed itself to be a giant robot.

A big hole was present in its chest where the heart would have been. Its chest plates were red, as were the shoulder guards, forearms, helmet and lower legs.

As it came closer, the chest plates raised like metal curtains, revealing six more holes surrounding the first hole, and rows of holes in the shoulders.

Ranma recognized the smaller holes for what they were: rocket launchers.

"This is bad," he remarked, and no sooner had he said it before the ground they were standing on started shaking.

"Very bad," agreed Kurt, too stunned by the giant robot to react to Ranma's previously unannounced presence.

Slowly, the floor started rising, lifting the mutants and robot towards the surface.

Within moments, the mutants and the robot were on the surface, and Ranma realized that there were no gears or wires to raise them. It had been done by magnetic manipulation.

So the entire kidnapping of Logan had been to lead these mutants into a trap?

Why would Magneto feel the need to do that?

One thing was certain; no one would be able to contain this situation if the robot moved beyond the empty lot, and in order to combat it, extraordinary abilities would need to be used.

The existence of mutant abilities would be revealed to the world, as well as the identities of several mutants. And no matter how talented Professor Xavier was, he would not be able to erase the memories of these events from as many witnesses as would observe these events.

Was that the purpose of this ordeal?

Ranma quickly pulled the mask he had stolen from stuff space, and pulled it onto his head.

The top of the mask was joined with the front and covered as much as a bicycle helmet. This meant his ears and neck would be covered by the black cloth attached to the mask.

The skull design might not be ideal, but it would do a better job at hiding his identity than a simple improvised cloth mask like the one he had worn against the Gambler King.

And as he secured the mask, Ranma discovered that the inside allowed him to see in a few more waves of light than the human eye, and that there seemed to be a tiny computer inside that tracked movement and outlined shapes even through material.

The robot looked very odd through the mask, as he could see nearly every single component that made it up while it fired globs of something at the retreating mutants; it was very tiring to see how everything interacted.

A few areas were highlighted, and Ranma's knowledge of human anatomy associated them with weight stress areas, and vulnerable spots.

Weaknesses he could exploit.

"You guys run, I'll hold it back!" barked Ranma, his voice distorted by the two bumps barely felt near his throat and emitted through the slits in the mask made to represent the teeth of a skull.

Not waiting for an answer, Ranma rushed the oncoming robot.

Its reaction time was fast, being able to track Ranma's Olympic level dash speeds as easily as a normal human, and when Ranma was halfway to it, the left hand folded in on itself and became a huge pair of metal claws, which it used to swipe at the masked teen.

Ranma halted his momentum just short of being split down the middle, and continued up its arm, jumping over the energy beams shooting out of the series of cannons which had formed on its right arm.

At neck level, Ranma struck the side of the helmet, snapping the robot's head to its right hard enough to break a few couplings, servos and pistons. Oil started leaking from those, and sparks from a single exposed wire lit it on fire.

Ranma jumped back, and waited.

A helicopter circled overhead, and Ranma could make out the letters of some news channel.

The secret was out.

"No need to hold back now," reasoned Ranma, noting that the robot was moving again.

In the one movement it managed before Ranma was on it again, the robot managed to shoot a big green blob of gel at Storm, who was ushering the younger mutants away.

Ranma formed the katana; his first experimental chi construct in his hands and with ruthless efficiency cut the robot to pieces, starting with the weapons and working his way up to the main processing unit, then cut off the power couplings and the batteries.

It was satisfying to watch the severed bits of metal menace collapse into a pile.

Unfortunately, more helicopters had arrived, and they were military.

The police was on the scene and Storm was encased in the same green gel that the robot had fired, and it had hardened so she could not move inside it.

It looked very unpleasant.

Ranma took the chance to leap from standing position, over the police car a hundred meters away, and smash the crystalline structure encasing Storm. Thankfully it was not like the movies, where the victim of similar attacks had become frozen solid and would be shattered with the casing they were in, and Storm remained alive and in one piece.

The woman was unconscious, and Ranma picked her up easily before taking off.

The other mutants had scattered beyond Ranma's ability to track, and the two air crafts from the Mansion were missing, so Ranma continued running. Behind him, he could hear warnings to stop, but he ignored them in favor of running.

His bike was not far off, and the problem of carrying the unconscious woman while riding was solved with Storm's cape, which he knotted across his stomach, making it act as a large, crude form of baby carrier. Then he was off.

Above him, Ranma heard at least two helicopters taking up the chase.

Apart from his house, there was really only one place he knew would be somewhat safe to bring the weather witch, and that was the Mansion.

Destination determined, Ranma made a turn as soon as he could, weaving in and out between cars, and squad cars as some took up the chase.

Due to traffic, Ranma was mostly left alone on the ground, with the exception of one persistent motorcycle officer, who if anything only chased him for the lack of proper safety gear on his passenger and reckless regard for traffic regulation. But damn it, he had more important things on his mind than needless accessories and polite consideration.

As city terrain gave way to highway, Ranma was able to speed up his bike considerably, but this change in terrain gave the law enforcement officers and military personnel the opportunity to clear the road and give proper chase on the ground.

A third of the way beck to Bayville, Storm woke up, and nearly jumped off the bike in surprise at her odd situation.

"About time you came to," called Ranma over the roaring winds made from high speed. "I've been balancing the pair of us through several miles of heavy traffic and it looks like the police is about to roll out the unwelcome mat!"

"Who are you?" demanded the white-haired African woman.

"I'm hurt!" returned Ranma. "I've carried you around unconscious before, and you didn't question me then!"

"Ranma?"

"That's me!" Ranma answered. "Do you have the strength to return to the Mansion on your own? I'll try to shake off the cops and army and meet you there!"

"I can make it!" confirmed Storm, and after some fumbling managed to untie the knot her cape had been tied into.

With a flare of wind, the woman lifted off from the bike and took to the sky.

Ranma had to use a lot of force to keep from losing balance as the loss of weight and the strong winds pushing every which way attempted to blow him off the road.

Still, it was all for the better, Ranma reminded himself as he saw the blockade of squad cars up ahead. The small lumps barely visible on the line were clearly armed policemen aiming their weapons in his direction from behind the cover of the cars. The optic systems in Ranma's recently acquired helmet confirmed his by enlarging one of the lumps.

There was no opening in the barrier big enough to let him pass without slowing down, so Ranma swerved to the side and tore off a sheet of metal from the guard rail, measuring nine feet from end to end, and tossed it towards the closest police car like an Olympic javelin thrower, scattering the police officers for cover as the piece of metal crashed against the car and settled at a slant from the ground to the roof.

When he was within effective firing range of police standard issue hand guns, Ranma smirked under his mask and flipped open one of the hidden push-button switch coverings, and pressed down the same switch.

The twin mufflers on his bike suddenly sprouted foot-long blue flames, and Ranma's speed increased drastically as the ion thrusters took over his acceleration, cutting power to the engine.

A rocket roar and a whoop of excitement was the only thing the police officers heard as the Ducati 650 Indiana drove off the improvised ramp and soared an impressive quarter mile down the highway before touching down.

"Good distance," commented the department's comedian policeman with a whistle.

* * *

Author's Notes: I am mixing in a few different realities into this story, because the XME series is very centered around them and not as much on the rest of the world, so it doesn't give much in the way of clues as to which superheroes already exist, or which companies have been established. Those of you who haven't caught on yet, the masked man is none other than Taskmaster, a mercenary with the ability to perfectly copying movement and memorize those moves. It is not a mutation, as he is fully human. I got the company names from all over, but mainly Ultimate Marvel and the recent movies.

The zygomatic bones are the protruding bits of bone directly beneath the eyes. If you want a better description, please look it up. images dot google dot com has several very descriptive illustrations.

I chose the ion thrusters as a replacement for nox, as this is an electric vehicle and adding something that required internal combustion would negate the benefits of electricity. Ion thrusters work primarily off of electricity, and are the experimental means of propelling rockets into space and beyond the solar system. And in case you were wondering, no I am not a techno geek or engineer, I saw it in a documentary on the future sciences and remembered it as I was writing, then did a little research.

Edit: Grammar, sentence structure, punctuation.


	23. Book 2 Chapter 20 Mutants

Posted: Sunday 03 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Two

Chapter Twenty – Mutants

* * *

If anyone had been able to follow, they would have seen a masked man riding his motorcycle down the highway at speeds that would seem to peel asphalt off the road.

As it was, the Ducati 650 Indiana was racing down the road at a neck-breaking speed of nearly five hundred kilometers per hour with two blue flames spewing from the mufflers. The rider, a man wearing a mask that could almost pass for the head of the grim reaper, was still whooping with excitement even after several minutes of the same speed.

At the exit to Bayville, the ion thrusters were shut down, the engine restarted, and Ranma turned off, confirming that he had lost even the helicopter following him.

Making it to the property belonging to the leader of the X-Men was as easy as falling off a log, but Ranma was shocked at what he found.

The Mansion was in ruins.

Smoke emanated from the rubble, and the scattered bits of masonry from a single central blast point indicated that the self destruct mechanism had been triggered.

Ranma was off his bike before it had rolled to a stop, and started digging through the debris, hoping he wouldn't find any dead student underneath.

As he was tossing a heavy piece of cement out of the way, he heard a helicopter came in for a landing.

Turning, he saw the helicopter belonging to the Xavier institute, and in the distance there were more on approach. The sound of sirens was closing in, and Ranma was very annoyed. Why would they lead the authorities back to their base of operation without attempting to shake them off?

Even Storm hadn't returned yet, and she had the ability of flight and could have taken a straight line from Ranma's bike to the Mansion.

Through the glass in the helicopter's flight deck, Ranma could see Professor Xavier's face, which made no sense at all as the man was a telepath and could easily have redirected attention from their vehicle, and would have been intelligent enough not to be followed directly to his home.

The younger mutants poured out of the helicopter and shuffled closer to the rubble in shock.

Ranma frowned.

Something wasn't right.

Extending his senses, Ranma was surprised in more ways than one.

Behind him, still hidden by the destroyed building, were the Mansion's resident mutants who had not been present at the battle with the robot, led by Cyclops.

In front of him were only a few mutants, but Professor Xavier was not there; Risty was in his place, wearing his face.

The fact that his school friend was impersonating someone else successfully wasn't a concern. He could probably do the same if he wanted, but the way her internal energies were being manipulated indicated that this was a mutation, which meant it was her mutant ability.

The only mutant he had heard of with that ability was Mystique.

This explained why the X-Men and Brotherhood were working together against the third mutant group at that abandoned lot. Mystique was impersonating the Professor, and had tricked the X-Men into working with her band of misfits. But to what end?

The stolen gun was in Ranma's hand before anyone could blink, and was aimed at the 'Professor'.

"Hold it right there, Mystique!" he threatened. The sound was distorted by the mask, making it sound more intimidating. "I know it's you!"

A beam of energy flew at Ranma, but whizzed harmlessly beneath him as he jumped straight up and over it, the gun not deviating from its target.

The sirens and helicopters were getting closer.

As soon as he landed, Ranma threw up a shield of chi in Cyclops' direction, stopping a second blast.

"Will you stop!" demanded Ranma. "It's me! Ranma!"

"Ranma wouldn't point a gun at any one of us!" argued Kitty, who was among those who had returned on the helicopter.

"I'm pointing it at the impostor!" corrected Ranma, bracing his shield against another blast. "That isn't the Professor! It's Mystique!"

Immediately, Cyclops ended his attack, and aimed his visor in the direction of the bald mutant. "He's right," agreed the team leader of the X-Men. "Before the Mansion blew up, we found out that Mystique has been impersonating the Professor for several days!"

"Ranma, is this any way to treat your Aunt?" asked Mystique chidingly, changing back into her normal form, which was that of a blue woman with red hair and tight black clothes. "After all the things I've done for you, you would turn a weapon at me?"

"Aunt?" Ranma parroted, lowering his weapon to point at the ground, looking at the blue woman with a certain amount of skepticism. "I don't remember ever hearing about an Aunt."

"Your mother probably never heard of me," Mystique answered dismissively. "I was thrown out of the family when my mutation manifested and I started impersonating people. I took my mother's maiden name when she died, and my father moved to Japan. I have kept an eye on you from time to time, making sure you didn't come to serious harm, but after you returned from China that second time a dangerous pattern started to set itself in stone, and I deemed your parents unfit guardians. It was my last act as headmistress of Bayville High to arrange for a student exchange and get you away from poor influence."

"Thanks," drawled Ranma humorlessly, displaying his ever growing mastery of sarcasm, which was wonderfully translated through the voice alteration device pressing into his throat. "Because life in Bayville has been _so_ much more peaceful than Nerima."

"Maybe not," conceded the blue woman, standing from the Professor's wheelchair. "But you've gained freedom. No insane fiancees who can't decide what they want. No heavy handed idiot father using your name and responsibilities to suit his needs. No homicidal mother obsessed with manliness and honor.

"You have been allowed to grow," added Mystique. "And that is my doing. Gratitude accepted."

"Leaving that aside for later," Ranma frowned, which was not visible through the mask but hopefully his tone would convey it as he turned his head towards the sound of approaching helicopters. "We have a more immediate problem brought to our doorstep by your lack of forethought in shaking off pursuers. I suggest a tactical retreat."

"I say we stand our ground and fight!" argued Avalanche firmly.

"Good luck with that," Toad remarked and started hopping for the treeline just as the first police car came into sight.

The rest of the assembled mutants ran for it, and it didn't take many moments before Avalanche too ran.

Ranma, however, did not.

He removed his mask and stowed it away with the gun. He had been tasked with locating Logan, and after the military got their hands on him his best chance to find the missing mutants was allowing himself to be captured. He was confident that when the time was right he would be able to get loose and bring his friend with him.

Visually unarmed and not masked, he knelt and interlaced his fingers behind his head.

* * *

The local authorities recognized Ranma from their previous encounters, and had been hesitant about handling him.

The Military was not as reluctant and immediately brought him in.

Ranma remained silent and cooperative. At that time they didn't have a single legal cause to hold him and he wasn't going to give them one until he had a clue about where they were keeping Logan, as which point all bets were off.

However, that did not stop one or two soldiers from getting rougher than necessary under the circumstances as they loaded him into a chopper, blindfolded and handcuffed.

For several hours, Ranma endured the mocking of the soldiers seated in the cabin with him, barely audible over the noise generated by the blades rotating rapidly above their heads, cutting through air which was forced down around the cabin with enough force to keep the three tonnes off the ground.

The derisive monicker 'Freak' was thrown around as frequently as the word 'and', and the sentiment that 'the only good mutant is a dead mutant' was uttered in many different variations. The idea that they arrange an 'accident' during transport was aired, but ultimately rejected as the Brass wanted answers, which might be more easily attained through a living and willing captive.

Ranma almost smirked at the idea that he'd actually die from a fall of what he felt to be less than a kilometer.

After what felt like an eternity but was closer to seven hours the chopper touched down and Ranma was roughly dragged out and forced to stumble along a concrete building surface.

The ki 'sonar' ping he sent out returned and showed him the outline of a military complex far away from civilian population and without much plant life. The air was dry and cool, but given the landscape he had glimpsed it was not impossible that they were in a desert. He was on top of one of the buildings, being taken towards a roof entrance.

Ranma was taken down several flights of stairs and through several twisting corridors before his blindfold was removed, revealing to him a large space with several containment cells along each wall and a containment and observation chamber in the middle.

Each cell along one wall contained a mutant; Rogue, Spyke, Beast, and Storm. The Nubian woman must have been captured somewhere after Ranma dropped her off at the freeway. And Blob was contained in the chamber, being laser carved out of his hardened gel containment by curious men in lab coats. Chained to an operating table in the middle of the room was Wolverine, and over him stood a General with a receding hairline, who was demanding answers to some very silly questions. Or at least Ranma thought they were silly. Why would they build a massive robot to attack themselves?

"We have the live one, sir," announced the soldier in the lead of the group which had transported Ranma. "A little banged up by the locals, but otherwise fine."

"Yeah, right," Ranma snorted, referring both to the statement about his physical well being and treatment.

The soldier responded by elbowing him discreetly but roughly in the ribs.

"Good, maybe he'll talk," the General said and rounded the table from Wolverine.

"Kid?" Wolverine grunted in surprise.

"Hey," saluted Ranma. "Was looking for you and there you are. Am I good or what? Didn't expect you had company, though."

"And how were you plannin' on leavin'?"

"Same way I came in," shrugged Ranma. "Just looking for the right moment. Besides, they can't hold me here."

"Think again," the General argued. "Lock him up."

Ranma was escorted into an empty containment cell across from the others, which was sealed with a thick plexiglass door as soon as he was inside.

"Perhaps a few hours to cool down will get you in a talking mood," the General stated.

"I'll talk about plenty of things," Ranma answered through the air holes in the door. "Among them how it's illegal under the Geneva Convention to keep prisoners under these conditions and interrogating them without anyone to represent them. I'll even talk about the poor vocabulary and education these men seem to have."

For some reason Ranma's danger senses did not warn him about the barbs which suddenly came through the air holes and penetrated his skin, sending high voltage through his body in paralyzing quantities. The culprit was one of the soldiers who had escorted him all the way from the bombed Intitute.

It was painful but nothing compared to the agony of completing his Neko Ken training. He started to adjust to the voltage after a few moments, but just as quickly as the first time another set of barbs pierced his torso, doubling the electricity surging through him.

A third set increased the pain even more.

"Stop it!" cried Storm angrily. "You'll kill the boy!"

"If it'll make you talk ..." the General growled firmly despite not having issued any orders for these actions. He waved his hand at another soldier and pointed at the twitching teen.

A fourth set of barb electrodes broke Ranma's threshold and a pained grunt escaped his clenched teeth.

A fifth set was too much. Ranma bellowed in pain.

"Uh oh," one of the soldiers commented. "I'd say this is a no smoking zone, but when it's a living thing emitting it-"

"He's caught fire!"

"Maybe this is why we're not supposed to use more at a time ..."

"Extinguishers! Quick! Before he sets off the alarm!"

Pain blossomed all over Ranma as he felt the change in pressure, and he felt the barbs releasing him before clattering to the floor.

"Where did he go?"

* * *

Ranma felt very odd now that his pain had ended; it felt as though he was drugged with muscle relaxants. Over his last year in Japan he'd been on enough of them through Kuno Kodachi to familiarize him with the feeling.

He tried to move his arm, but something didn't feel right.

It was as though he was drugged, under water, and in slow motion all at once.

He turned his attention to where his arm was but found he couldn't see one; only thin black mist.

Extending his senses, Ranma felt that his body was scattered, in-cohesive, but his ki remained as strong as ever only diluted over a larger area.

His first thought was that the electric shock had managed to do what Saffron could not; kill him, and that he was now a ghost, a spirit, a phantom.

But then he managed to move his hand, which started gathering into a limb made out of smoke suspended in the air.

He remembered that he had an X-gene, but it hadn't activated.

Perhaps the many thousands of volts above the recommended limit had shocked him enough to activate the gene?

He made another attempt at pulling himself together, hauling in his ki into the form he was accustomed to.

The smoky skeletal arm grew a shoulder, which grew a spine.

Ranma was sure it was unnerving to see a human spine floating in the air, but he had other concerns than how things looked.

His spine assembled and extended into ribs, clavicles, shoulder blades, another arm, pelvis, femurs, skull. All the bones in his body gathered in smoky form.

In the middle of his chest, a heart assembled, vessels and arteries extended from it, wrapping around the bones like vines.

The blood vessels spread out, forming muscles, organs, glands.

The organs and muscles grew a covering in the form of dermis, epidermis, and strategically placed filamentous bio-material.

The job looked done but Ranma felt that something was missing.

* * *

Rogue was angry with how she was treated; like an animal, locked up in a smooth cell with a transparent door filled with fist-sized holes with nothing to do by watch as they excavated Blob or interrogated Wolverine. Then another familiar face appeared with a military escort and a blindfold.

She was no longer angry, but mortified at how these military thugs were treating Ranma!

A little back-talk didn't warrant electrocution!

"Stop it! You'll kill the boy!"

Rogue flinched as more stun guns went off and Ranma screamed.

Her eyes widened as she saw something rise from the screaming boy.

Smoke.

His clothes had caught fire! Ranma was ON FIRE!

Rogue pounded the door to her cell, and she wasn't the only one. Wolverine was struggling against his shackles. Beast was roaring and thumping against the door. Spyke was trying to hack his way through. Storm only managed to suck a lot of air into her cell while static electricity gathered along her body.

The cell door to Ranma's cell was forced open and three soldiers with fire extinguishers let loose the powder jets into the cell.

"Where did he go?"

The question ceased all resistance as the soldiers and mutants alike stopped to see what had happened.

The cloud of powder cleared away to reveal only a charred spot on the ground where the barb electrodes had fallen.

Ranma was nowhere to be found, and there was no movement in the cloud to suggest he had turned invisible again.

"This never happened," the General announced to his soldiers and turned his back on the cell as the soldiers nodded and closed the door again.

"You MONSTERS!" Rogue screamed, tears dripping from her eyes as she gave a token thump to the transparent door.

"When I get out of this-" threatened Wolverine as he resumed his struggles.

"What the-"

The General stopped and turned at the exclamation of surprise, and Rogue blinked away her tears to look at Ranma's cell.

Standing with arms outstretched was a shadowy, smoky skeleton, drawing in the remains of smoke from all of the cell, constructing itself and growing a heart. It was disconcerting to see a human being assembled cell-by-cell from the inside out.

After a minute the construction of external genitalia made it clear that it was a male body.

The soldiers had their side arms out and pointed at the closed cell as the muscles and organs were covered by skin and finally hair, revealing a familiar face and black hair.

As the assembling process was complete Ranma landed on the ground and drew breath. When he first exhaled a little bit of black mist escaped and returned to be absorbed by his skin, which turned its normal color.

"Ranma?" it was Storm who asked, pressed against the door of her cell.

Ranma opened his eyes, but instead of actual eyes were was only darkness, a slight mist escaping and returning from inside the functioning lids.

* * *

"That felt weird," Ranma remarked as he took a step forward, approaching the glass.

"Halt!" commanded the General, pointing his weapon at the him.

"No," Ranma decided, taking another step. "I was cooperative. I came quietly. I requested legal representation. I got shot, repeatedly, with weapons designed to stun with a single shot. Warning labels on the weapons indicate that there are dangers to excessive exposure, yet I was tortured for requesting what I am guaranteed by human rights, I was set on fire for using sarcasm! So no, I will not 'Halt' as you say. I will in fact do the opposite, and 'act'."

Another step brought him _through_ the plexiglass door, the only signs of there having been any resistance was a slight trail of black smoke which quickly returned to him.

"Subject has breached containment! Fire!"

"NO!" argued the captured mutants who were capable of it.

Ranma raised his arm and a translucent chi barrier sprung into being in front of him, stopping the bullets fired and dropping them instantly to the ground, momentum spent.

"I'm through playing nice guy just because you're with the government," Ranma declared as the shooting stopped, clenching his fist. This dropped the barrier and created a glowing white sword in his hand. "You tried to kill me. Let me return the favor."

"Ranma, no!" Storm called as the soldiers scrambled to reload. "Don't!"

"Storm is right, Ranma!" Beast agreed. "Think of their families! Their friends! They are only doing their jobs!"

"That one suggested they drop me out of a moving helicopter at three quarters of a mile up," Ranma snarled, pointing at the soldier at the back. "The ones over there _shot_ me for pointing out something they didn't want to hear! What about _my_ family? _My _friends? They certainly didn't consider _them_! Why should I show that kind of consideration when no one gives it to me?"

"'Cause we're tha good guys!" Rogue called out. "And as yer friend Ah don't want you to do it!"

"Don't sink to their level," pleaded Storm. "We're all your friends. Spare them, for us."

Ranma snarled in a manner very similar to Wolverine, and lowered his sword, much to the relief of the closest soldiers.

The sword was suddenly raised and thrown, cleaving straight through the chains on Wolverine's right arm.

The feral mutant wasted no time in freeing himself, and the distraction was only increased as the alarm went off before any of the soldiers in the room could reach the buttons required for setting it off. **"Intruder Alert; Quadrant Three!"**

Ranma and Wolverine each tore up a cell door, and freed the captives, ignoring the bullets passing through them as they each used the bullet proof slabs of material to shield the occupants while the occupants went about freeing the others.

Blob managed to break himself free of the hardened gel, and upended the observation chamber, tossing it around like a kiddie pool. It embedded itself in a wall, blocking one entrance to the room, and Beast used the slanted angle of the cavity to act as a temporary holding pen to contain the soldiers and General like they were naughty toddlers in need of a time out. The cavity was then closed with the section of floor where the chamber had been standing.

-Pouf!-

"'Bout time you got here, Elf," grunted Wolverine as he saw Nightcrawler appear in their midst. He then caught sight of the woman he had brought with him; Mystique. "What's _she_ doing here?"

"It's a little complicated-"

"He'll send you a memo," interrupted Mystique impatiently as she looked around, her eyes landing first on Blob, then on Ranma.

"Aunt Raven," Ranma greeted, taking the woman by surprise with his presence and appearance, while surprising the mutants who had not been at the Mansion for the revelation.

"You turned," the blue woman noted concerning his mutant status and observing his eyes. "Put some clothes on, you're on display. Hurry up, there's not much time!"

"Yes, Aunty," Ranma nodded, not entirely enthused at being ordered around so soon after pulling himself together. Thrusting out his arms, he grabbed onto something unseen and pulled back fistfuls of the same clothes he had been wearing prior to his electrocution, though they were only the spare set rather than what had been ruined by fire, which covered him in an instant.

While Ranma was getting dressed, everyone had started running for the only remaining exit from the room.

He remembered what he had done not long ago.

He had passed through a solid object.

The quickest way out was passing straight through obstacles.

Ranma followed the others, mulling things over on the way. He did after all do some of his best thinking on his feet.

At an intersecting hallway the group met up with Marvel Girl, Avalanche and Cyclops who were keeping the army reinforcements occupied.

Being slightly behind the group, Ranma spotted a problem in the distance, from a door in the corridor he was running down. Rather than alert the others tackled the soldier himself.

He was unprepared for what happened when he and the soldier landed in the shade of the open door.

The ground below him was not the firm concrete he had been diving for, but rather the dusty desert outside the facility.

Standing up and looking around in confusion, Ranma found the facility at his back and the now unconscious soldier on the ground before him.

There were helicopters in the air, including one which shouldn't be there.

Reviewing what he had done to end up nearly a mile away in an instant, Ranma imagined his departure point and dove forward.

A flash of darkness before his eyes was the only transition before he stood in the corridor like before. There had been no sound to announce his departure or arrival as far as he could tell, and no lingering brimstone smell as was the case with Nightcrawler. One moment he was one place and the next he was another.

Standing at the end of the corridor was Mystique who was swearing up at the top of a ladder. The sound of boots approaching brought Ranma out of the momentary confusion, and he charged at his Aunt with the intent of repeating his displacement.

The woman turned at the sound of boots, and her eyes widened marginally as the sight of her nephew running at her.

* * *

Back on the X-Men jet helicopter, Rogue had a very plain look of nausea about her.

"What's wrong?" Jean asked kindly, wrapping an arm around the clothed mutant's shoulder.

"They killed him," Rogue muttered, and her expression was mirrored with anger on Wolverine and Beast, while Spyke looked out the window. Storm had taken the cockpit. "All he did was talk back and they killed him."

"Who?"

"Ranma," Logan answered. "Death by electrocution. Five or six stun guns at once. Burst into flames."

"But he vhas there," Kurt pointed out. "I saw him!"

"It was indeed a fascinating sight," Hank answered the boy. "Every molecule of his body appeared to have been turned into smoke, but he pulled himself together into human form in only a few minutes."

"Sickenin' more lahke," Rogue argued. "He started from the inside and worked out. Ah'll nevah look at an anatomy chart tha same again."

"While not an appropriate sight at a polite dinner or in front of the weak of stomach, I would stick with my descriptive," The blue-furred man added. "That someone has enough conscious knowledge and awareness of his own body to manage to reassemble each and every bone, muscle, organ and gland without visible faults is simply staggering. I doubt even Specialist Doctors could remember that much in regards to the order and minute details which were involved in the short process. I have never seen a more fascinating case of activating mutant powers."

"Dude, he had his junk on display," Evan cut in. "I never needed to know what he showed us in there. Don't think I can look at him again for months."

"He didn't come with us," noted Hank.

"Kid's tough," Logan answered with a grunt. "He'll find a way back."

* * *

Mystique gasped in pain as she found herself pressed by the neck up against a wall very unlike the inside of the military base.

The tiled roof and its shape visible in the moonlight suggested somewhere in Asia, but the position of the moon and stars begged to differ.

It took a few moments for her to realize that this was the open air training area on Ranma's property.

"Tell me why I shouldn't hurt you for the mess you brought me into," threatened Ranma, the pitch black of his insubstantial eyes peering through her.

"I. Am. Family!" gasped the transforming mutant around the tight grip, somehow finding it impossible to use her power at the moment. She gasped in pain as she was slammed back into the compound wall.

"Not good enough," Ranma announced and tossed the woman to the ground. "Do you have any idea what you put me through?"

"I didn't allow you to be captured," wheezed Mystique, rubbing the feeling back into her throat which provoked a cough. "You did that yourself."

"But I wouldn't have been here if not for you," Ranma argued. "I would have been back in Japan, I wouldn't have _changed_!"

"No one will notice if you wear shades," Mystique argued. "And if you had stayed in Japan, if I hadn't gotten you away, you may have been killed inside a year by that Savage Girl who uses mallets to get her point across instead of words! I won't pretend I did it out of the kindness of my heart, that isn't me, but the only motive I had was that someone from my family wouldn't _hate_ me, while at the same time snub my half-sister for breaking up my parents! I never planned on pressing you into any mutant agenda, mine, Magneto's or Charles'! I never manipulated your actions! Everything that has happened here has been your doing, I only brought you here!"

"You pretended to be my friend," Ranma answered coldly.

"I never once pretended," the blue woman argued. "I may have lied concerning my true past, appearance and identity, and arranged our meeting on your first day, but Risty is who I am without any grand scheme; the slightly naughty girl who hangs out with and teases her friends, and listens to their problems."

"Can you honestly look me in the eye and claim that there wasn't any part of our interactions that was fake?" Ranma challenged his Aunt.

The woman looked away in silence.

"Thought so," stated Ranma. "Get off my property, Aunt Raven. You're banned for a month, and don't try sneaking up on me with your powers. If you need a place to hide after that, I'll save a room for you."

"Why?"

"Like you said; you're family," Ranma decided, turning his back on her. "But I won't take any more crap from you. If I find out you've meddled in my affairs, I'll do to you what my mother threatened to do to me."

"Then I should tell you," Mystique said, standing once more under her own power. "I was responsible for the Tendo girl leaving so suddenly. I threatened her to let you be."

"How?"

"I didn't really say, but I implied I had some pull with the Japanese Tax Agency and might inform them of her illegal income," the blue woman answered before her body shifted its shape into that of a bird of prey which took off with a few mighty flaps of its wings.

Ranma tracked the movement with all his senses until it was out of sight, then slumped to his knees in exhaustion.

It would seem he had been dragged into this war, but he'd be damned if he was going to take one side over the other.

He had a base of operations.

He had training facilities.

He had the space for medical facilities.

He had accommodations enough for a little over a dozen residents, provided he got a bigger and stronger power source for those little devices modern people couldn't live without.

He could take in the mutants who didn't want to choose either of the two alternatives and teach them to defend themselves. In the War between Mutants he could be the Neutral party.

* * *

Author's Notes: Wow, it's _really_ been a long time, over two years! I have no real excuse, but will add that I haven't abandoned the story. I've also gone through it and edited the grammar, sentence structure and punctuation of the entire story. I am also glad I had the foresight to note down the mutation I had planned, or I would just have to wing it and possibly deviate widely from my original idea. I am also aware of that the change came suddenly, but I had enough of avoiding it and I did promise earlier that the mutation would appear after chapter ten. Despite appearances, Ranma has not mastered his mutation. And for the record, yes, I was inspired by Doctor Manhattan when it came to reassembling his form. And despite my repeated use of the word 'Smoke' his codename will not be Smoky.


	24. Book 3 Chapter 01 Issues With Acceptance

Posted: Monday 11 June 2012

* * *

Disclaimer: This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.

* * *

Change of Power

Book Three

Chapter One – Issues With Acceptance

* * *

Standing on top of what used to be a rocky hill just outside the town of Bayville was a house with a very Asian look about it.

The hill itself was now a spiraling set of stairs winding up the concrete and rock height, covered in tiled roof to keep the visitor from immediate contact with the elements. Situated at the bottom was even an electrical chair lift for the enfeebled. Though it should be said that the chair took close to twenty minutes to reach the top, and even a fit and normal individual would need at least ten or fifteen to reach the top.

The home at the top was surrounded by walls, which had tiles on the top to angle water down the sides instead of into the compound. The space in front of the house was as big as a basketball court, and had a few thick wood poles sticking out of the ground at varying heights along the side.

The house itself appeared to have two levels, ground and upper. It was somewhat a fusion of Western and traditional Japanese in design.

Most of the house had walls with white paper in wooden frames, capable of being moved around to allow air to circulate or to close it out. A few rooms did not hold to that openness and flexibility, primarily the bathrooms which had solid wooden walls and a solid door with a lock which flipped a sign as the lock turned, informing those on the outside if the room was occupied or vacant. It contained a shower, a large tub with seating capacity for four and water jets along the sides that could change a normal bath into a hot tub, one toilet, and one sink. A few feminine products were lined on the cabinets next to the sink, which had a mirror. A second bathroom on the ground level had no showers or bath, but was fully stocked with toilet, sink and towels.

The kitchen had one solid wall, along which stood the kitchen sink, the dish washer, the wood cooking stove with cooking top, and the refrigerator.

A common area was set up not far from the kitchen, containing a sofa, a coffee table and a projected 70 inch TV shown on the large white wall.

As there were no power lines attached to the house or property, one might wonder where the electricity for the electrical devices came from.

The answer to this query would be found in the lowest level of the property, nearly twenty feet below the ground around the hill. The additional levels below the house were not on any blueprint, as they had been constructed in secret and without a permit. The bottom level being the garage, where the motorcycle of the owner was normally parked. The bike was not there, but the power plant was, spitting out enough power for the average household by splitting the hydrogen and oxygen atoms from water through the means of an electric charge transmitted from the photovoltaic cells on the roof, releasing the oxygen while trapping the hydrogen, which was then used to generate electricity, a process which bonded the hydrogen with oxygen and as a byproduct made water which was piped back into the water tank with diminishing returns. As a result the tank had to be topped off every few days in order to keep everything running. The City had not approved such a thing, but then it wasn't anywhere in the plans so they didn't know that the owner used far more power than supplied by the panels on his roof.

The owner of the property was standing in the middle of the top subterranean level, making measurements and notations.

The owner was one Ranma Saotome, born in Japan and sent to America, or Bayville specifically, in an Exchange program. He had discovered quite a bit about himself, including that he had an Aunt no one in his family knew about, that he had a mutation, and that he had a dual citizenship as a result of being born on a US military base in Japan; American soil. For almost three years, he'd had a curse which changed his gender with the right application of water temperatures but the moment his body had dissolved into particles of smoke the magic had nothing to hang on to and lost its grip. Ranma had gone almost two days without noticing.

The process of becoming a mutant had not changed much about Ranma's appearance, but there was one damning feature and that was his eyes. In their place was a space of swirling black mist. His eye sight was still as sharp as ever, but while he had managed to reassemble every other part of himself the eyes had not been included. To cover up this, he had taken to wearing a pair of sunglasses, which made him look like a blind man as he wore them indoors and when it was dark.

"That's right, Forge," the teenager stated into his cell phone. "Forty feet by forty feet by ten feet."

"**Are you kidding me?"** the teenage boy in the other end of the line answered. **"The Danger Room at the Xavier place is at least five times that much!"**

"I know that's not much to work with," agreed Ranma. "But it's all I have available without starting further excavations beyond the borders of my property."

"**And just how did you expect to manage with that kind of space restrictions?"** Forge demanded. **"As soon as you move you'd almost reach the end and hit a wall!"**

"I was thinking something along the lines of a containment field which allowed the user to interact freely with the environment but kept them in one spot throughout the simulation-"

"**Are you insane, man?"** erupted the Native American mutant from the seventies, cutting off Ranma's suggestion. **"Do you have any kind of idea how difficult it would be to get something like that done?"**

"No need to throw a fit, I know how hard that would be." Ranma confirmed. "I've spent a day trying to think up an alternative, but I don't want to travel or send my residents over to the Xavier Institute for simulations."

"**I'll see what I can do,"** sighed Forge tiredly. **"But getting parts won't be cheap, you know."**

"If it helps, I'll supply the parts you need," suggested Ranma. "I know of a very nice old coot at a scrap yard. He lets me walk off with what I can carry in hand. And you've seen what I can carry."

"**I'll get on it, then. I'll be at your place when you get back from school tomorrow."**

"You're the best, Forge. See you then."

-Beep-

-BRRRRRING!-

-Bleep-

"This is Ranma," Ranma answered immediately after hanging up on Forge.

"**Ranma, it's good to hear you found your way home**,**"** the cultured voice on the other end stated.

"Professor," returned Ranma, having heard of the situation pertaining to his entrapment within the containment tanks designed to sedate and keep the Juggernaut from going out on a rampage.

"**I assume you still intended on finishing your education, am I right?" **the Professor asked rhetorically.

"Yes," confirmed Ranma slowly.

"**Then I think you should go to school tomorrow as normal," **Xavier continued. **"The School Board has allowed the mutant students to return for the day, provided they do not use their powers."**

"Of course," agreed Ranma. It made sense that this would be one of the conditions. After all, many of the mutant powers available to the mutants at Bayville High could cause quite a bit of damage.

"**Principal Kelly opposed the decision, and may attempt to sabotage things," **warned Professor Xavier. **"It is imperative that you do not use your powers or anything that may seem out of the ordinary. Explaining things away as something which could be achieved with rigorous training is not credible enough for the normal everyday human. At least not in these troubled times."**

"I see," Ranma confirmed that he had understood.

"**The School Board will be assembling tomorrow evening at City Hall to discuss whether or not mutants will be allowed to attend school with regular humans."**

"I'll be there," assured Ranma, making a note of the time and place. "Thank you."

Ranma flipped closed his cell phone and stuffed it away as he returned to the main levels, where he found a blonde girl about his age lounging on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, a paper cup of McDonald's soda on the wooden floor inside reach, and on the screen he could see a sandy Arena with beams of bright colors held by robed individuals surrounding it as an army of robots flooded in from every entrance.

"You started without me," Ranma accused, shoving the girl's feet off his sofa and planting himself at that end.

"You were late," the girl answered. "And I was bored. Not much else to do around here."

"There will be soon," corrected Ranma. "The School Board has allowed mutants to return to school until the Hearing later today when they'll decide if we're allowed to attend a normal school. But we're not allowed to use our powers."

"Good thing I won't be going, then," the girl decided and popped a corn in her mouth.

"I can't believe I'm the one asking this, but why not?" Ranma asked, snagging a handful of the popped corn. "Don't you want a job where you don't have to serve people their greasy meals for minimum wage?"

"We're mutants, Ranma," the girl answered. "We'll be lucky if someone wants to hire us regardless of education. Face it, we're the new pariah class of Western society; shunned and hated by all."

"Well then you're lucky your codename fits as a stripper name as well," Ranma stated and turned his voice deep in an impersonation of an announcer. "Next on stage four; _Boom-Boom_! Or if you're feeling very racy you could have a short three hundred film career as a porn star. Those are the main bulk of places where you'd get a job with that education and name if you don't want to stir fries and flip burgers."

"Then I'll just sit here for the rest of my life," Tabitha 'Boom-Boom' Smith sulked.

"You know as well as I do that we have to at least appear to conform," Ranma consoled, then stole another handful of popcorn which earned him an indignant 'hey!' "Lest someone comes along and pays attention to us. Besides, I hear Principal Kelly doesn't want us there ..."

"So," Tabitha picked up where he trailed off, a naughty grin on her face. "We'll be stickin' it to 'the Man' by going? Okay, I'll go, if only to snub that stiff guy by going against the grain."

"Just remember; no powers," Ranma reinforced the condition for attending. "I get the feeling he'll be _very_ strict on that, going as far as arranging situations where a mutant uses their power may be a possibility. Be sure never to go anywhere alone until we get this issue cleared up."

* * *

The next morning, Ranma stepped out of the shadow of an oak tree on the property of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters and noted with some amusement that his bike remained where he had parked it days before.

There were some scorch marks on the ground and a slight humming which suggested that the Anti-Theft was active, and the scratches and skid marks around it suggested someone had attempted to tow it when moving it manually hadn't worked.

"Who goes there?" demanded a girl's voice and Ranma saw Kitty poke her head out from behind one of the partly erect walls of the Mansion. He noticed that the walls had become a bit more decorative since he saw them a few days ago.

"Just me," Ranma called out. "I'm getting my bike. Want to appear a little more normal until they decide if we get to return permanently. Need a ride?"

"No!" Kitty answered emphatically. "I mean, Scott already said he'd drive."

"Smooth," Ranma remarked with a chuckle as he remembered her reaction from the Dance, pushing up the shades he had gotten Tabitha to get for him. She admitted she had wanted to mess with him and get him girly ones, but instead went for the same ones Keannu Reeves wore in the massive multiplayer online society reproduced from the human world, where machines harvested bio energy from ignorant humans who didn't know they were only living in simulations transmitted directly into their brain. "See you at school."

"Look under the pile of rotten fruit," the brunette called as Ranma started his bike.

The drive was much less adventurous than the last time he'd been on it, but that was because after the stir he'd caused he didn't want to draw more attention to himself. He was starting a boarding house for mutants who wanted not to take one side or the other in the Mutant War which was breaking out around them, yet wanted a sanctuary to learn how to use their powers and be themselves.

He had enough room for nearly a score, forty if they didn't mind having only nine feet by seven of personal space or if they doubled up in each room. He could fit sixty or seventy if he got bunk beds and had four share a room.

Ranma didn't realistically anticipate that he would have that many as he didn't have any credentials in educating people other than in Martial Arts, and didn't have a lot of money, but it was good to be prepared.

* * *

Meanwhile, in his parents' basement come high tech science lab, Forge the Techno Genius Mutant was hard at work.

He did freelance work for Professor Xavier, and now Ranma. While the Professor was able to pay for his services, Ranma was not able to pay as much, so Forge decided to take some payment out of amusement instead.

His Computer, personally assembled from scratch and programmed with his own Operating System which was more than capable of interacting with the existing OS out there through the internet, was designing a web page linked to an invasive virus which would seek out the users who typed in certain search words successively and open a new browser window to the site which told them about the Boarding House Ranma was setting up, and the benefits of staying neutral while learning to use mutant powers.

He was well aware of that he would not see immediate responses, but his future amusement was assured and ample payment when factoring in that he got to be present when the events unfolded. After all, the Danger Room would require frequent upgrades, and occasional inspections to make sure it wasn't malfunctioning. New equipment for other parts of the house was also a given, as Ranma didn't have the funds to purchase it from the normal manufacturers.

* * *

All across the world, the virus burrowed secretly into computers, hiding within a few bytes inside important files, waiting for the parameters for their action to come up, while spreading more of their numbers to other computers. Already, less than a minute after the virus had been released, half a dozen users had been redirected to the web page for Sanctuary Boarding House where images of the property, rooms and owner popped up with the information that this was a sanctuary for mutants who wished not to take part in the war between mutants and humans yet wanted to learn how to control their powers. The exact location was not described, for security reasons, but once a place had been reserved the pertinent information would be sent to the applicant.

It took approximately an hour before three candidates had made a formal request to the administrator of the site to be allowed a space at this new place, and tentative arrangements in preparation for passage had been made.

* * *

Somewhere over the East Coast a scheduled passenger airliner was making its final approach for JFK International Airport.

* * *

Completely unaware of the exact goings-on elsewhere in the world, Ranma half sat on his bike in the school parking lot as he waited for the Xavier students. Might as well make it official that he was an active mutant by entering the school with them.

With his long leather coat and shades as he leaned against the powerful piece of two-wheeled machinery Ranma looked the very picture of a rebel. All that was missing was a packet of cigarettes and maybe some tattoos.

Several students saw him and thought nothing of the appearance other than admiring it. It was sunny out, so shades was not spectacular, and as it was still early it wasn't exactly warm so a coat wasn't strange. Perhaps it was the combination and the air of confidence about him which made him look cool.

At long last the two cars containing the Xavier students arrived, one dropping them off and the other parking not far from Ranma.

"Reinforcements at last," Ranma noted, his mouth twitching into a crooked smirk. "What's the matter? Couldn't tear your eyes off the new decorations?"

"Stuff it, Saotome," Scott grumbled as he got his pack from the back of his car.

"Don't mind him," Kitty apologized on the red-shaded teen's behalf. "He's just grumpy because we all have to double up to fit in the underground chambers and he ended up with Mr McCoy, who sheds."

"Try sharing a room with a panda for a year," Ranma snorted and hooked his school bag over his shoulder with a finger. He didn't really need a bag, but because of the mutant paranoia he didn't want anyone to think that making things appear out of nowhere was part of his power and that he was using it, so he had the bag filled to capacity with books, pens and notebooks. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Kitty answered and looped her free arm through Ranma's. As far as he was aware, there was nothing romantic going on between him and Kitty, but he had apparently been mistaken about that kind of assumption before.

"Once more unto the breech," quoted the black-haired teen, and informally led the group towards school.

As predicted, Ranma's association with known mutants was very telling about Ranma's status as a mutant, and more than a few gave the group harsh glares. Whispers followed them and went along the line of the group not being welcome. One even went as far as to tell them to go back where they came from, which was amusing as some of them already were where they came from. The only one who hadn't been born on American soil was the disguised Kurt, and he was keeping his distance as he had not been positively identified through the media and was enjoying not being shunned again. Amara and Roberto had been born in Brazil, but the statement that they go back where they came from could not possibly be focused solely on them.

At the top of the steps to the main entrance stood the guy who had been Jean's boyfriend when Ranma had arrived in Bayville, Duncan Matthews the school football star. He attempted to reconcile their differences by saying that her little flaw didn't bother him and suggested how great they could do on tests and professional poker.

Disgusted with the blond teen's suggestion and attitude, Jean renounced their association and pushed past him into the school.

* * *

In his lab, Forge took a break from his research into realizing Ranma's vision of a Danger Room confined within a smaller space.

He checked his e-mail and found several applications for places at Ranma's Sanctuary.

He ran background checks on the candidates for a criminal background and association with known anti-mutant groups which had cropped up over night but other than an occasional parking ticket came up clean in each of the now five cases.

The techno genius sent the command to the virus within the candidates' computer and they would automatically print out the address and directions if they were still online, or as soon as they booted up again. It was safer than sending e-mails, even if it was technically hacking.

* * *

Ranma had known that there would be trouble.

Humans much like small dogs would bark at anything they found intimidating and scary in hopes that it would go away.

But unlike small dogs, some humans tended to back up their bark with a bite, not having the good sense not to further antagonize someone much bigger or stronger.

The Football Team had appointed themselves as the school's guardians against mutants, being among the most physically fit, and it was Ranma's turn to be harassed.

"Nice shades, _mutant_," spat Duncan Matthews as he and three team mates came up behind him outside the school building as he was moving to the parking lot.

"Thank you, human," Ranma replied without turning back or missing a beat. "I'd give you a compliment in return, but I honestly can't think of anything you've got or accomplished that deserves one."

A bruised ego serves as a far stronger motivation than physical injury, and Ranma didn't need to be a mind reader to sense the moving air behind him as the offended teenager rushed him in a tackle.

Ranma extended his right foot, placed his weight on it and lowered it so he was crouching with his left foot still in the same place it had been.

The length of leg between the left foot and the left hip tripped the charging athlete and Duncan crumbled on the ground.

"I trained in Martial Arts all my life, grasshopper," Ranma informed the Football Players as he stood back up. "I was beating Black Belts into paste before I entered my teens. I defeated a living God a little over a year ago. Do you really want to challenge me in a physical altercation?"

Reason penetrated the thick skulls of the three who followed Duncan and they hurried away.

Duncan didn't.

"You can't use your powers," the blond teen reminded and entered a sloppy boxing pose. "So I'll grind _you_ into paste!"

"Idiot," Ranma responded and intercepted the fist, twisting it behind the jock's back all in the space of a second, disorienting the Football Player by being presented with the opposite directional view than the one he had been facing. "I could have beaten you in your present age and fitness with a blindfold when I was five."

Ranma pushed the trapped arm away, propelling Duncan forward several large, stumbling steps.

"You may attack me if you feel like it," Ranma said as the teen turned, rubbing his wrist. "But I will defend myself with equal force and intent. I don't need any mutant powers to win against you and I never did."

"And what is you power, then?" demanded the blond teen.

"You think I would reveal that to you?" snorted Ranma. "I learned a lot from my interaction with Ewing and his dad, and I believe that giving you that information would not be in my best interest. I suppose I'll see you at the meeting tonight."

Ranma turned his back on the swearing teen and returned to his bike, which had some paint marks on the ground around it and a slight static buzz in the air to suggest that someone had attempted vandalism on it. He chuckled at the imagined looks of frustration on the faces of the would-be-vandals as their spray paint simply dripped off the bike without adhering.

He simply hopped on and started the bike.

Ranma's return to his property was uneventful other than the occasional one fingered salute he was given in passing by his fellow Bayville students as they recognized him.

The sensors Forge had installed around the property recognized his approach on the bike and opened up the underground garage for him. It closed behind him as soon as he was inside the safe zone on the downwards sloping ramp outside the reach of hydraulics and such. For safety reasons it had been marked with yellow and black stripes so people would know not to be within that area when the hidden door closed. He pulled to a stop next to the Jeep Forge had managed to get for himself and modified.

"Hey, man," Forge greeted from where he was halfway crawled under the Hydrogen Power Plant. "Just beefing up the performance to handle the strain you'll put on it soon."

"Excellent," Ranma answered and stood back so as not to be in the way.

"You should make ready some rooms," the presently horizontal mutant added. "There are five mutants heading this way to stay for a while. They should be here inside a few days."

"Already?"

"Yup," Forge grunted as he tightened something. "I did a background check on all of them. Nothing big, just a parking ticket or two. One of them has a brother in the Army, but hasn't been in touch with him for years."

"I'll set up a detention cell or two just to be safe," Ranma said more to himself than anyone else.

"Oh, and there's someone at the door, bell went off five minutes ago," added Forge as Ranma turned to ascend the stairs he had carved out of the rock which made up the foundation of this geographical feature.

"Thanks," Ranma offered and sped up his journey by stepping into a shadow and out of one near the gate.

He sensed two normal humans on the other side of the door, so he prepared himself for another round of 'Whatever you think I did, it wasn't me'.

"Yes?" he asked, pulling open the double doors.

His question was answered by a high kick which sailed over his head as he leaned back and out of the way.

"Pops?" Ranma demanded as he righted himself and followed the limb back to its owner.

"Your time in this slovenly country has made you weak, boy!" Saotome Genma declared and lunged at his son.

Ranma jumped and flipped back onto one of the thick poles lining the bailey in front of the house.

"Oh, how cursed I am to have such a weak and disobedient son!" bemoaned Genma as he leaped after him.

"Who's weak?" demanded Ranma, batting away each strike and kick while jumping from one pole to another. "If anything, _you_ got weaker! This is hardly worth the effort of defending!"

"Listen to your father!" Genma demanded, striking at what he felt was an opening.

"When you have something worth listening to, I will!" agreed Ranma mockingly as he trapped the old man's wrist. However, unlike Duncan, Genma was very well trained and Ranma had to duck under a straight kick to compensate for the trapped limb.

"An opening!"

Ranma would normally have lost his footing when the fat man suddenly reversed his kick and swept the ground, but as it stood the kick didn't do what the old man had intended. Instead of sweeping the feet out from under his son, Genma was witness to the feet dissolving into misty black smoke and reform as soon as the kick had passed.

The fat man recovered from the surprise quickly and broke the grip on his hand before leaping away to land on the pole opposite the bailey from his son.

"I didn't teach you such things," the bespectacled man noted solemnly.

"I can do many things you didn't teach me, Pops," Ranma grinned. He extended his hands to his side, and from between his knuckles sprouted foot-long white blades. "Care to test my best material?"

"That's enough, Son," declared a very familiar female voice, drawing his attention to the formally dressed Japanese woman standing in the doorway with a cloth covered bundle on her arm as always. "Are you going to ignore your Mother and not invite her in?"

"Of course not," Ranma answered and materialized before the woman with an apologetic bow, weapons gone. "Welcome to my home, Mother. I apologize for the delay. Please enter."

"Thank you," nodded the formal woman and stepped through.

"Would you care for some refreshments?" Ranma offered, keeping pace with the woman as he walked towards the house. "I'm afraid my selection is limited to water, milk, tea and soda pop. The last of the coffee went this morning and school just let out."

"Tea," answered Saotome Nodoka promptly.

"Right away," Ranma nodded as they entered the house, followed by Genma. "Father?"

"Water."

Ranma nodded and deposited the two adults in his living room, which while sparsely decorated had a few items of value within the entertainment category.

As he returned from the kitchen with a cup of Jasmine tea and a large glass of water, Ranma saw his father examining the film selection with disgust etched on his face.

"I hope this is to your liking," Ranma said to his mother as he carefully placed the steaming cup before her.

"It is fine," was the polite answer after a sniff and sip.

"It is not that I'm not pleased to see you, Mother," Ranma stated and sat down on a chair opposite the woman. "But I assume there is more to this visit than a quick spar and a cup of tea."

"Indeed," confirmed the redheaded woman, taking another sip. "We came to remind you of your duties. When Nabiki returned we were not satisfied with what she had to tell us and decided that a more elaborate explanation was in order. As your Mother, I wish to know what are your plans regarding the Engagements you have left unfulfilled and unsolved?"

"I have given the matter great thought," Ranma answered, taking a sip of the highly caffeinated soda pop he had brought for himself. "It has been very heavily weighed in my mind, each fiancee pitted against the others in terms of skills, appearance, personality and finally my feelings for them. After nearly a year of deliberation I have come to one natural conclusion."

Ranma stopped speaking and took a deep drink of his beverage.

"What have you discovered, Son?" asked Nodoka curiously. It was unlike her son to be so firm, structured and intellectual. She knew sending him to America was the right choice; the was so Manly!

"The old man made this mess, let him clean it up," answered Ranma simply. "I'm not following through on his promises."

"WHAT?" demanded Genma angrily, rising as quickly as the flush to his face.

"Sit," Nodoka stated simply, and in an instant the large man was sitting meekly next to his wife. "So you do not accept your father's authority or responsibilities?"

"Correct," Ranma answered, surprised at the swiftness of obedience instilled in his father during his absence. "I have a new life here, a home to keep, an education to finish and a job which I find amusing and challenging. In addition to that I am taking in people who need a refuge from the outside world which wishes harm on them, and teaching them to better defend themselves."

"Hey, Ranma!" cut in a female voice which had Ranma sagging in his seat from the poor timing. "There's a woman outside asking for you!"

"Just a moment, Boom-Boom," Ranma answered in resigned English as the blonde woman ran through the open room, headed for the bathroom. "You drank the last of the coffee this morning."

"I know! That's why I'm _in an hurry_!" the blonde called before the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Excuse me," Ranma apologized to his mother. "I suspect that is one of my new residents. Please give me a few minutes to greet her."

"Of course, Son," Nodoka agreed. "We will use the time to talk amongst ourselves."

Ranma got up and exited his house and moved towards where the gates were open and a female shape with a suitcase was visible. Upon closer inspection she was a woman of African descent with her hair in tight cornrows tipped with metal ornaments, she was slightly taller than he was, thin, and wore a black dress reaching to the middle of her thighs, and matching low heels.

"I'm Ranma Saotome," greeted Ranma, offering his hand as soon as he came within reach.

"I'm Doctor Celia Reyes, MD," returned the mocha woman. "Your contact person gave me this address after I asked for a place at this 'Sanctuary'. I want no part in the Movement, but want to learn how to use my power. I have already declined the offer put forth by Professor Charles Xavier because he made it clear that his students would be on the front line."

"Of course," Ranma agreed. "Do you need help with your bag?"

"No, I got it," Doctor Reyes declined. "So, what is your gift? Telepath, like Xavier?"

"No," Ranma corrected. "I turn insubstantial and teleport through shadows. There may be more but I haven't gotten tested fully yet because the Xavier Institute doesn't have fully functional medical equipment and my equipment is still on order."

"Yes, your web page said you were just starting," Doctor Reyes remembered.

"At least with a doctor on the premises I would know what equipment to get for the Infirmary," Ranma reasoned. "I'm afraid my accommodations aren't quite as spacious as those that once were at the Xavier Institute, but when I built this place I didn't originally intend for it to be a Boarding House. But you'll have your own room, which only you can access once I key you in. There will be a panic button which will allow me to cut security to the room if there's an emergency, but as there are so few residents here at the moment I haven't gotten them made yet."

"Yes, that was included on your page," confirmed the Doctor.

"Was there by any chance a tour included on the page?" laughed Ranma.

"A map with the emergency exits for the residential levels, and a few other levels," Celia answered. "Your contact person also said that I would get better accommodations if I accepted an on-call position for the medical facilities on the premises."

"True," Ranma admitted. "Let me show you to your room."

Ranma chose not to take the woman through the living room, instead taking her up the stairs to the room at the end of the corridor.

"This is yours, Doctor," announced Ranma. "It is twice as large as the other rooms, or just as big as mine. The outer walls can be moved outwards to create an open space when it's hot or allow access to the walkway which you saw circling the level. You can decorate your room as you want, but keep in mind that nothing will remain stuck to the walls, floor or ceiling without my help."

"You do know these walls are made of paper, right?"

"Yes," Ranma confirmed. "And I guarantee you they are more secure and private than any place you've had before. Try punching through one. I dare you."

The MD did as challenged, and as her fist impacted the paper it was surrounded by an energy field which protected the woman's hand and moved it back six inches. The wall was unharmed.

"I'll leave you to settle in," Ranma said, a note of pride in his achievement at making such a good wall. "If there's somewhere you're not supposed to go, you won't be able to, but feel free to explore. I have to finish meeting with my parents and then I have to get to City Hall and catch the meeting concerning mutants in school. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge and freezer, but please respect the posted meal times or give advance notice if they will be ignored, and please remember not to let things clutter up the place in general."

Ranma left the newcomer and bounded down the stairs and into the living room where Tabitha was engaging in conversation with Nodoka.

"Oh, he hasn't changed gender for over a week as far as I can tell," laughed the blonde literal bombshell as she sat on the armrest of the sofa. In the background she had turned on the TV to some music channel and a bunch of half-dressed women were dancing in beat with the music while a bunch of enthusiastic guys were on the side-line bobbing their heads. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, he's got a killer bod."

"You found a CURE!" declared Genma accusingly, pointing at his son as soon as he saw him.

"I suppose I did," Ranma admitted. He found himself splashed with the cold water his father had been given earlier.

"I demand you share with your loving father!" the bald, fat, bespectacled man cried in an authoritative manner.

"Gladly," Ranma decided. "Be sure to remember, because I will not repeat myself."

"Yes!" barked Genma in vow and somehow managed to produce a fresh notepad and pen.

"First," Ranma started, shaking his head at Tabitha who did not understand the Japanese dialogue. "You get yourself arrested by the American Military."

"'-by the American Military'," repeated Genma slowly under his breath as he quickly scribbled it down, tip of his tongue between his teeth.

"Second. You get locked in a tiny cell with barely any air holes."

"'-air holes'."

"Third. Point out something mocking and obvious about their treatment of you in violation to national and international standards."

"'-national standards'."

"Fourth. Allow them to shoot you with electric stun guns as many times as it takes for you to catch fire."

"'-to catch fire'."

"Fifth. And most important of all. You burn until there is no body left for the curse to dwell in, then reconstitute your own body from the carbon atoms floating in the air."

"'-in the air', got it!" announced the fat man triumphantly and started going over what was needed. "This seems very odd."

"Like the Neko Ken did?" Ranma asked. "Regardless, that is what happened. My body was obliterated, and my will forced carbon atoms to come together until I was a fully functional person again. The curse is gone. Maybe all you have to do is die for it to go away, but I cannot say for certain."

"You died and came back to life?" Nodoka asked in a surprisingly small voice.

"Uh, yeah I supposed you could say that," Ranma mused. "Anyway, I'm a Mutant and that was how I became active as one. Now I just want to make sure that some mutants don't have to take part in a war they want no part of, so I offer them a place away from the rest of the world within these compound walls. I can help them learn to Master their powers, defend themselves if need be."

"My Son," Nodoka sniffled. She then looked up with happy tears in her eyes. "My Son is the Mutant Messiah!"

* * *

Ranma didn't know how he managed to get out of the awkward turn his mother had taken the conversation, but he still managed to excuse himself for the meeting at City Hall.

Just as he drove onto the parking lot the ground started shaking.

He saw the Brotherhood and X-Men fighting one another. The Brotherhood members were using their powers while the X-Men weren't.

The collateral damage was unacceptable.

Ranma hopped off his bike and disappeared from sight, passing into the shadow of a flying car. It was almost as though the shadow of the car erased Ranma from the world.

* * *

Avalanche was doing his best at what he did best; make things shake.

The Flatscan Duncan had suggested they work together to force the X-Freaks into using their powers so the Council Members would see that they were to be feared. The blond idiot then engaged Scott in a brawl which quickly went south.

Even without using their powers, the X-Freaks were holding their own if only just.

It was time to kick it up a notch.

As Lance 'Avalanche' Alvers raised his arms to bring to bare the full extent of his power, there was a flash of light behind his eyes and he knew no more.

* * *

Ranma stood over the downed Avalanche.

The reduced and dying trembles was just as conspicuous as their presence and eyes turned in his direction.

"Ah Crap," summed up Toad succinctly. "Later!"

"No, now," Ranma disagreed, appearing in front of the leaping mutant, delivering a wicked overhand punch to the teen's face, knocking him out cold.

"Uh oh," Fred 'Blob' Dukes expressed at seeing what had transpired. He had been the victim of Ranma's beatings before, and he had seen how the teen was incinerated and came back into physical form as well as passing through solid material. He knew the havoc Kitty Pryde could wreak on machinery when she passed through it, and he had a suspicion of what someone with Ranma's martial and anatomical knowledge could do if he felt particularly vicious now that he was a full mutant. "I give."

"Good," the cat in Ranma approved of the unconditional surrender to his dominance. Now, if only the rest of the world would fall into place just as quickly. "Is anyone else thinking of causing trouble?"

Silence met his loudly asked question.

"Good."

* * *

Author's Notes: No, I will not reveal all the applicants before they arrive. Shame on you for wondering.

Ranma's boast about defeating a God was a slight exaggeration, but that is in essence the purpose of bragging; exaggerating in order to make the other party feel inadequate. It's a Guy thing. I believe the female equivalent is pointing out and emphasizing a small flaw in the opposing female to the point where they feel insecure and can't help but thinking of that flaw. I apologize if this sounds offensive, but I'm only speaking from what I've observed in social interactions in Norway and America. A representative of the closest divinity will possibly appear and correct Ranma's statement at some point.

I will also point out that though Nodoka did not cross the threshold to Ranma's home without permission, it does not mean she is a vampire. It's simply good manners not to trespass.


End file.
